The Doublecross Incident
by Bugsketeer
Summary: Their superiors aren't responding. Their Medics are scheming. And mercenaries are vanishing. RED and BLU have to put aside their differences if they want to see them again. Pre-MvM. Rated for Scout's language. Act II has begun!
1. Chapter 1

**Authors' note: 'First Encounters' is a direct prequel to this fic, dealing with why the Medics can hold a civil conversation. We hope it will not be necessary to the story, but just in case it is, it's been uploaded. The short of it is that one's professional life is difficult if no one else on your team wants to talk about intestines or parasites.**

**Oh yes. We don't own Team Fortress 2. We're just sneaking in after hours to play. **

BLU Medic ducked the swinging fists and rammed his Ubersaw through the Heavy's esophagus, yanked it back and grinned at the expression on the RED Medic's face as the Medigun abruptly stopped working. "Guten Morgen, colleague!"

RED's surprise turned to irritation in an instant. "Fess... I vas almost at Uber." He reached for his Blutsauger as he backed away from BLU Medic. "He is going to be very upset vhen he respawns. Being killed by a Medic is supposed to be humiliating."

BLU grinned at him. "Oh? I thought zhat he vas used to being...stabbed...by you on a regular basis by now. Or haff you not even gotten enough courage to proposition him by now? You're a bloodthirsty murderer, Herr Doktor, not a schoolgirl."

"I don't know vhat you're talking about, und if I did it would be none of your business," RED Medic said flatly as he opened fire. "As it is you need to keep your mouth shut vhen fighting. You are too easily distracted und vill make everyvon zhink we are easier targets zhen we actually are."

"As if they need any more encouragement zhen zhey already get from you," said BLU, diving in close and swiping at RED's middle. "Und come on. Ve need to talk. Vithout zhe murdering, please."

"Ach!" RED clutched at his abdomen; the Ubersaw had left a shallow but painful cut there. He glared at BLU with his gun still raised, though for the moment he'd stopped firing. "Talk about vhat?"

"Our Scout. How zhe hell do I get zhe damned donkey legs off, Herr Doktor? I did not major in neuroscience!"

"I zhink zhey suit him quite well, personally." RED rolled his eyes. "Has respawning not worked? I vould zhink... though it really depends on zhe nature of zhe respawning mechanism. I don't know nearly enough about how zhat works yet."

"Zhe vee bastard vill not let me kill him. He vill not hold still."

"LET you?" RED gave him an incredulous look. "Vell... just... let him go get himself killed zhen. He never lasts long vithout respawning anyvays. If zhat doesn't vork, zhen perhaps I can be of assistance. If we could do it secretly."

BLU grinned. "It vould be nize. But I just...vhanted to give you zhe reason zhat your Spy vill be...upset vhen he manages to slip the manacles."

RED frowned. "Our Spy? Vhat are you talking about?"

"You'll see. I vill simply say his suit vill need extensive modifications." There was a French-accented roar somewhere above them. "Ah, voops, zhere he goes. I vill be going."

"Vait a moment, vhat did you do?"

"Just try not to laugh," said BLU, already in flight.

"Don't run avay from me, I'm asking you a question!" RED shot a few syringes after BLU, but he was already gone. "Verdammt," he muttered. The slice across his belly had already healed, so he had no trouble mounting the stairs. "Spy! Spy, are you alvight?"

Spy was clinging to the railing and pulling himself along. "Do I look all right?" he demanded in withering tones, gesturing to where his legs had been. They were a jarringly blue mass of tentacles. "'e ruined my suit! And my legs, but ze suit, it was my favorite..."

RED Medic's hand went to his mouth. He hoped he looked shocked, because really he was trying not to laugh.

"Ah... yes, vell. Perhaps vhe can, ah... find a tailor to make you a new suit, vith... vith eight legs in zhe trousers."

"Non," said the Spy, taking a cigarette out of his jacket pocket with trembling hands. He lit it, stared morosely at it. "Docteur, I would like you to repair me as soon as possible. I am useless to ze...the... team in this condition." He raised the cigarette to his lips, took a long drag, then started to cough, flinging it into the water. "Sacre merde!"

"Yes, perhaps I can replace your lungs vhile I'm at it," RED Medic said dryly. He took Spy's arm and pulled it over his shoulder. "It should not be too difficult, mein Freund. Vhe shall haff you back in proper vorking order before long. Now if vhe can only get you down zhe stairs und back to zhe base..."

"My lungs are fine!" the Spy screamed, shaking. "'E put somet'ing in my cigarettes! Sacre merde, 'e put 'air in my cigarettes!"

The Medic gave him an odd look. "Ah... yes, of course he did. But zhis is actually a good zhing, you... nevermind, I vill get you more if you vant." He just realized what a bad idea chiding him on the dangers of smoking was when Spy was in this condition. "Here, vhe are almost out of zhe sewers, maybe no one vill see us."

The Spy shuddered. "Merci, mon ami. Je te remercie."

"It is nozzing."

"Oi, Doc, is that you?" There was the sound of wary footsteps and the unmistakable slosh of Jarate.

"Get back to your post, Dummkopf!" Medic called, sounding a little panicky, but it was too late. Sniper stepped around the corner, and for a moment he just stared at the bizarre figure in front of him.

Then he burst out laughing.

"Fils de un chien," said Spy, wearily. "I would shoot you," he went on to Sniper. "I will shoot you, when I get my gun back."

"Ah, I'm sorry mate." Sniper put the jar of Jarate down and went to help Medic support Spy's weight. "But I did need a laugh; we're getting trampled out there."

"Yes, vell, perhaps if you vould do your job instead of getting distracted by silly little zhings like us coming up through the sewers..." Medic said. He sounded rather grumpy for someone who'd almost laughed at Spy's plight himself.

"Why am I not surprised," said Spy. He shuddered a little. "Just keep me away from the other Sniper. Please."

Medic nodded curtly. "Ov course I vill."

Sniper rolled his eyes. "Stop being so melodramatic. If it was me wot got turned into kalamari you'd be throwin' every snoide remark you could think of my way."

Medic glanced at Spy and said nothing. This was most likely true, anyways.

Spy growled a long low litany of expletives, and ended with, "And they are blue. Blue!"

"Yeah, they are. If they weren't I'd have thought it was our doc that got ya, not the other side's."

RED Medic looked affronted as they finally got Spy into the surgery. "I vould not ever do somezhing like zhat to a fellow team member! Certainly I might, ah... make certain beneficial adjustments to zhem, should zhe opportunity arise, but zhis is just pointless tampering."

"Nah, not pointless. Havin' tentacles makes it hard to sneak up on people I bet. It might even keep him from disguising or cloaking properly." Sniper looked thoughtful. "You know, if you could do the same thing to BLU Spoy..."

"I haff more important zhings to do zhan play practical jokes. Now, Spy, if you could climb onto zhe table please, I vill begin a preliminary examination."

Spy gave him a profoundly dirty look and wriggled a few tentacles pointedly.

Medic rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath as he took Spy's arm again. "Fine, since you haffen't figured out how to use your new appendages properly yet... Sniper, help me get him on zhe table."

With another snigger, Sniper stooped next to Medic and began to roughly shove Spy up onto the gurney with his shoulder. "Bloody hell, wot have you been eatin'?"

"That's coming it pretty 'igh from a barbarian that smells like piss," Spy retorted.

"I wasn't talkin' about the smell mate, though that's pretty bad too." Sniper gave another shove and with Medic's help got Spy onto the surface. "And I don't smell loike piss, for the record."

"Vill both of you shut up for three seconds?" Medic had darted over to the counter to pull out a stethoscope, a light, some scary-looking instruments, and a tongue depressor. He used his foot to push up the switch for the light over the gurney.

"Ze smell is not my fault," snarled Spy, ignoring Medic. A tentacle slapped Sniper hard across the chops. "Well. It seems zat I am getting ze 'ang of zis."

Sniper staggered, then started toward him with a growl.

"Vhat are you doing?" Medic said sharply.

"I'm plannin' on tyin' his tentacles in a knot, that's wot."

"My tentacles," said Spy, sounding like a petulant child, and moved all of them to the side.

Just then there was a thunderous hammering on the door to the infirmary, and the RED Scout shoved his way in. "Yo, doc, Solly wants to know where tha frick you been." A pause, as he stared at the Spy. "Hey, Spy, didja get eaten by an octopus? I thought you frogs had it tha other way around, you ate them. Doc, Solly wants you guardin' tha intel like, yesterday. He's cussin' pretty hard."

Medic looked from Spy and Sniper staring daggers at each other to Scout. "Ach... I haff somezhing important here," he said distractedly. "Could you tell Soldier to get his Black Box und Equalizer and just- TAKE ANOZZER STEP TOWARD HIM UND YOU VILL BOTH BE ON GURNEYS," he shouted to Sniper. Sniper looked close to throttling Spy, but at the threat he fell back looking mutinous.

"So what, I'm s'posed ta tell Solly ta get his panties outta a twist cos Spy got an octopus stuck to his butt? That ain't gonna go over well, doc. You might wanna lock da door when Solly gets back." Scout inched closer. "Daaaamn it's like they're actually growing outta his skin!"

Spy glared at him. "I am not a freakshow, boy."

"Ya are now, spook," said Scout.

"Oh vhat is he going to do, shout until he ruptures his vocal cords?" Medic looked worried despite the derision in his voice. Soldier was likely to do a lot more than shout. "Egh... Scout, you are upsetting my patient, und I vould be very happy if you vould leave. You too." He gave Sniper a pointed look.

"Aw, man. You're no fun, doc." Scout shrugged and turned his back, heading for the door. Before he closed it behind him, he said, "Hey, Spook."

"Oui?"

"This is goin' all over da joint. I'm even gonna tell da BLU poser. Be seein' ya, Spook!" The door swung shut to the sound of running footsteps, and a fading, "Hey guys, guess what, tha Spook has an OCTOPUS STUCK TO HIS ASS!"

Spy let out a low wail of despair and buried his face in his hands.

"Vhe vill haff you fixed before anyvon can see, don't worry," Medic said in what he thought might be a reassuring voice. Though really, he'd rather not rush it too much. A functioning Spy was important to their team's success, sure, but he did want to evaluate his BLU counterpart's handiwork properly. "It may take, ah, a few days, perhaps, but it shouldn't be so bad as long as you keep moist."

Sniper grumbled something barely audible and slunk out the door.

"Und I vould appreciate it if you vould not help zhe little idiot spread zhis around!" Medic shouted after his retreating back.

"A few days?" Spy stared up at him. Then, "Give me ze scalpel. Now, docteur."

Medic looked entirely taken aback. His immediate reaction was to make sure the scalpel and anything else pointed was a good distance away from Spy. "Vhy?" he asked shrewdly.

"Respawn would be faster, it seems, and if it does not get ze damn tentacles off, you can disconnect zem anyway. Ze scalpel, please."

Medic hesitated. He still had misgivings about this, but... well, he'd be able to study the corpse at least, wouldn't he?

"Fine, if you feel zhis is zhe best solution." He reluctantly handed over the scalpel.

"Merci. Also, I do apologise for ze mess I am about to make." With that, Spy rolled up the bottom of the balaclava, located his carotid artery, and slit it. If he'd had his knife, he could miss this thrashing about, but he died far more nastily at least a dozen times a day, so he didn't find it too disturbing.

Relatively speaking.

"SCOUT! SCOUT, WHERE IS THAT DOCTOR?!" Soldier burst out of respawn and grabbed the RED Scout by the front of his shirt as he passed. He looked deranged. Well, more so than usual.

"Yeah, whadya want?" said Scout, who was used to this sort of thing.

"I TOLD YOU WHAT I WANT, YOU STUPID LITTLE PIECE OF MAGGOT CRAP!" He shook Scout. "I WANT TO TALK TO THE MEDIC RIGHT- EFFING- NOW!"

"He's in the infirmary, dumbass," said Scout. "Say, shouldn't you be helpin' us capture the intel?"

"SHOULDN'T YOU KEEP YOUR TRAP SHUT?" Soldier let go of Scout's shirt and tromped toward the infirmary, growling profanities under his breath.

"Who were you looking for?" The Spy stood by the infirmary door. He hadn't had a good day, and he was throughly willing to pass it on to the Medic if it involved the Soldier's wrath. Especially as Medic had turned respawn off for a good hour and a half so he could dissect the be-tentacled corpse properly. Well, at least when he HAD respawned the things were gone.

"I WAS LOOKING FOR THE- WHY ARE YOU BACK HERE, HAVING A CROISSANTS-AND-BRATWURST PARTY WITH THE MEDIC?! GET OUT THERE AND STAB BLUS FRENCHIE, THAT IS AN ORDER!"

The Spy blinked at him. "Ceasefire is in five minutes," he pointed out. "I doubt one could do much good in that time."

'THEN WHY WEREN'T YOU OUT THERE EARLIER?! YOU AND THE... NNGH!" He shoved his way past the Spy and almost screamed, "WHERE WERE YOU TEN MINUTES AGO, HERR DOKTOR? BECAUSE I KNOW WHERE YOU WEREN'T! HELPING ME AND THE HEAVY DEFEND THE INTEL!"

Medic looked up from a tray of recently cleaned surgical tools, looking surprised. "I'm sorry, vhat?"

"YOU HEARD WHAT I SAID!" Soldier lunged forward; Medic just moved the tray aside in time for it to not get thrown onto the floor. As it was set down on the counter, Soldier's hands closed around the lapels of his lab coat. "WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU COULD NOT FIND TIME TO FIT HEALING PEOPLE INTO YOUR BUSY SCHEDULE? WERE YOU HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR STUPID BIRDS? BECAUSE THAT IS JUST RIDICULOUS AND BIRDS DO NOT NEED TO DRINK TEA!"

"I vas NOT- let go of me!" Medic grappled with Soldier's hands, looking alarmed and angry. "I vas doing research, it's very important if you do not want- I said let GO!"

Spy cleared his throat. "Soldier? I do believe that the Engineer wanted to consult with you. He was looking for you a moment ago."

"THE ENGINEER CAN WAIT JUST A DAMN MINUTE!"

"I vas doing research to see how my counterpart modified Spy earlier!" Medic snarled, and finally he managed to wrest himself away from Soldier. "In case you don't remember, Herr Soldier, our team suffered considerably vhen he vas, ah, not available, und if respawn had not corrected zhe problem vhe might have done vorse. Now just ZHINK vhat might happen if zhey did zhat again, but respawn did not fix it!"

"WELL JUST MAKE SURE TO DO YOUR JOB OR I WILL MAKE YOU DO IT!" Solider bellowed. He spun around to face Spy. "WHERE IS THAT TEXAN ANYWAYS? THE SENTRIES WERE BLOWN UP WHEN HEAVY AND ME GOT DOWN TO THE INTEL EARLIER!"

"Engineer is in the Intel room," said the Spy placidly, lighting a cigarette.

"FINE, I WILL GET DOWN THERE AND TELL HIM TO STOP LETTING PEOPLE BLOW HIS CRAP UP, AND THAT I'M NOT BEING UNREASONABLE BECAUSE HE ALWAYS SAYS THAT!" Soldier stomped out of the room, still livid.

Medic sighed and straightened the collar of his coat. "Danke. He might have continued on for some time if you had not intervened."

"There is no difficulty," said the Spy. "However, if you find yourself in a position to put a syringe in BLU Medic's throat, I would very much appreciate you putting a word in on my behalf before you do so."

"Vhat, to tell him not to play vith your genes in the future, or to tell him you're going to kill him in a particularly unpleasant way next time?" RED Medic snorted as he carefully put the tray of instruments away. "Even if he listens, it vill do no good. BLU is... excitable. He does not alvays zhink before he sets out on a project, und interrupting him in zhe middle of one is, ah, inadvisable."

"Either will do," said Spy, in withering tones.

"I vill make sure of it zhen." RED Medic rolled his eyes. "Look at all zhe time und energy he's made me waste."

"Indeed. I wonder how much time of his team's he wasted today." The Spy smiled a little and left.

No sooner had the door closed behind him than a dove slammed into the window.

Medic frowned. "Vhat...?" He opened the window to let the dove in. He removed the message in the container on its back once he was sure it was all right.

_Meet me in BLU sewers at 9. it's important_ the message read, hastily scrawled and badly capitalized, and with a hole in the paper where the pen had gone through on the i.

Medic's brows rose. "Vell Archimedes," he muttered to another dove sitting a little ways away on a pile of yet-to-be discarded entrails. "It looks like I have an appointment at 9.**"**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors' note: Huzzah! Reviews and followers! The younger author is bouncing with joy and making stupid squeaking noises. The dignified and experienced author has handled it with (undue!) aplomb and remarks that stale ginger snaps make excellent cricket food. Guess who writes which Medic.**

**Things in parentheses after Pyro's dialogue are translations. **

**We don't own TF2. But we said that already.**

The BLU Medic looked up as RED Medic came around the corner, did not stop pacing. His hair stood on end, his labcoat unbuttoned, his pants creeping out of the tops of his boots and his tie entirely absent. "You're late."

"I vas making sure no von followed me," RED Medic said. His gaze roved over his counterpart's appearance. "Vhat is it zhat has you so agitated?"

"Zhe Heavy," said BLU. He ran both hands through his hair this time. It was mostly standing on end.

RED blinked at him, nonplussed. "Zhe Heavy. Vell, I'm so glad you cleared zhat up. It vould be very annoying if you called me out to your sewers und zhen didn't tell me exactly WHY."

"Zhe Heafy, MIEN HEAVY. Do you have him? Vhere?"

RED's brows rose. "Vhe aren't in zhe habit of taking prisoners; zhat's only somezhing you've done recently." That wasn't strictly true, as the BLU Spy could testify, but still. "Have you checked everyvhere in your base?"

"Schweinhund! You think I vould ask you if I hadn't? He is gone! Vanished! NOT VERDAMMT HERE. If you had anyzhing to do vith ZHIS-"

"I did _not_ take zhe BLU Heavy," RED told him firmly. "Now just settle down for a moment und vhe vill zhink zhrough zhis rationally. Sit down und just zhink." He rubbed his forehead. "Vhere vas zhe last place you saw him?"

"Respawn. Exiting respawn, just as cease-fire started. He isn't in his room, not in the kitchen or zhe common room, he's nowhere! None of zhe ozzahs haf seen him either!"

RED hesitated, obviously in thought. "You know... if he didn't leave zhe base of his own accord- unlikely- perhaps he had an impromptu meeting vith your employers. Zhat vould make sense, vouldn't it?"

"Our employers? Zhat is not a good sort of meeting! Did your Spy get him?"

"Ach, he hasn't been able to get _anyvon_ recently. You saw to zhat. No, I zhink it more likely he met vith your employers. Perhaps you can ask zhem."

"My employers." BLU sat down hard on the steps, his boots in the water, and put his head in his hands. "Zhey are not readily available. I tried."

RED frowned. "Ah... he hasn't been gone so very long, zhough. Perhaps he vill be back soon. Und if not... vell vhat do you propose vhe do?" He lowered his voice. "I'd assume zhat letting anyvon else on eizher team know vhat ve vere up to vould be a bad idea, ja?"

In response, BLU handed him a folded wad of cloth. It was a BLU Medic's uniform. "As long as ve make sure to only be seen vone at a time, it vill vork. Ve need data. _He left Sasha_."

RED looked skeptical and a little bemused when BLU handed him the uniform. He even began to protest, before BLU finished talking. Once he heard the last statement though, he froze. "He... left Sascha? I... zhat is problematic..." He frowned. "But vait, vait, I'm supposed to be posing as you vhile you look for clues? Zhey will realize I am not present at zhe RED base."

"No, I vant you to pretend to belong here instead of being a RED vhile you help me look for clues."

"But..." RED blustered. "But zhey vill know somezhing is wrong! Zhey vill know I am not at zhe RED base, und zhey vill find out vhe are not as hostile as some of zhe ozzahs! Zhey vill know zhat ve TALK!"

"I talk to myself all zhe time," said BLU. "Zhis is no different. Ve are clones, after all. Come on, Herr Doktor. Ve are vasting time."

"_You_ are a clone," RED corrected, feeling that BLU wasn't listening. What was he going to do when this was over? When he went back to his team and everyone didn't know where he had gone? But instead of tackling the question again, he took the uniform. "If anyzhing bad happens to me because of zhis, I vill get back at you somehow."

"Ach, don't vorry about zhat. You vanish all zhe time, Herr Doktor! Remember? You got blown out of zhe respawn area by zhat rocket but zhe medipack took zhe vorst of it und you turned up in zhe middle of zhe night vith a volf you had killed vith one syringe. You boasted about zhat for verdammt veeks."

"Vell... vell it vas worth boasting about."

"Und zhen you hogged zhe dissection und didn't show me any of the parasites."

"I gave you zhat fluke. Stop complaining."

"Ja, by _infecting_ me vith it."

They glared at each other. At last RED looked away, sighed.

"All right, but please give me some privacy to change in."

BLU nodded and turned his back. "It's not like zhere's anything you've got that I don't," he pointed out. "Except for zhe volf bite."

"Ja, I still haven't figured out vhy some scars vill not go away on respawning... not zhat I'm complaining of course." He dressed quickly. "Zhere, done."

"You vere outside the respawn area vhen you got it. Come on!"

"But zhere haff been ozzah... egh, forget it. I'm coming." RED Medic trailed behind BLU after hastily stuffing his things in a fairly clean corner, under a crate.

"Zhis vay," said BLU, heading up the first flight of stairs, sidling across the courtyard and to the door and staircase there. "Third room on zhe left. It is unlocked. You first. It is better zhat zhey see you first and me second if things go wrong."

RED gave him a slightly suspicious look, but this did make sense. He nodded and reluctantly led the way to the room, turning the handle and walking inside.

BLU followed him a few moments later. "You see vhy I zhink he did not leave willingly?"

There was a faint, sickly sweet scent to the room, medicinal. Sasha was there, askew on her little baby-blue bed, the metal smudged.

RED sniffed, nose wrinkling. "Chloroform, or somezhing similar... und it seems likely zhat he is still alive. Perhaps." His brow wrinkled. "So zhe suspects vould be somevon on eizher of our teams, most likely mine, or zhe administration."

"Ve should go to zhe infirmary. At least zhere I can be sure zhat ve are not being listened to."

RED Medic nodded nervously and followed, easing the door shut behind him. As they passed the Engineer's workshop, he thought he heard a door open; a glance back showed nothing wrong at all. He was glad when they made it to the infirmary and the double doors were closed behind them.

"Now if vhe can narrow down our suspect list..." He trailed off, frowning. "Did you hear zhat?"

Both were silent a moment.

"No," said BLU. "I do not zhink ve vere followed-"

The door crashed open. BLU Engineer stood framed in the doorway, shotgun to his shoulder. "Spah," he said in a voice that had none of its usual warmth, "Any particular reason you're snoopin' around our base at night?"

BLU Medic looked worried. "Ve are looking for zhe Heavy," he said. "Herr Conhager, zhe shotgun is not necessary. It is ceasefire."

"See, that's kind of a funny thing to say," he replied slowly. "Last time I checked, we didn't have two Medics. And if one of you is that RED Spah, well, that's not supposed to happen during ceasefire either, is it?"

"Herr Conhager," said BLU, raising his hands, "Ve are not Spies. Ze RED vone is recovering from my little experiment zhis afternoon."

"Then y'all won't mind me doing a little spy-check, will you?" he asked.

"Please, I only just joined zhe team!" RED threw out, hoping the Engineer went for it. "I-I don't know if my, er, respawning und team-immunity is even functioning yet!"

"Zhat vas von of the reasons I brought him down here," said BLU. "But I haff somezhing more important. Zhe Heavy is gone. His room smells of chloroform, and Sasha is still zhere. Dirty."

Engineer hesitated, then lowered the gun. He was frowning. "No chance he just up and left, huh? That's... I don't like that at all."

RED bit back a snide remark. Getting irritated at someone who might shoot him out of paranoia at any moment was a bad idea.

"Sasha had fingerprints on zhe casing," said BLU. "I don't like zhis. Und I don't think it's REDs zhis time. RED isn't stupid enough to touch zhe gun."

"Fingerprints? Well we can lift those, even if we don't have anything to compare 'em to." Engineer rubbed his forehead with a gloved hand. "But why do we have another Medic again? Y'all were doing your job just fine, far as I could tell."

BLU looked a little nervous at that. "So zhat somevon can look after ubercharging, say, zhe Heafy, vhile zhe ozzer looks after zhe team." He hoped it was a good lie.

"Mmm... sounds like a good tactic. Dunno why I wasn't... anyways." Engineer shrugged and lowered his gun. "Mind if I poke around, see if I can spot somethin' y'all missed?"

"Please," said the BLU Medic.

"Lead on then, folks." Engineer made no move to start walking, and RED was sure he wanted to keep both of them in his sights in case one was the Spy. Trying to look nonchalant, he turned to go back to the Heavy's room.

And ran into the BLU Pyro.

"Mmmurrf mummph?" said the BLU Pyro, cocking their head to one side.

Engineer smiled slightly at Pyro. It surprised RED that someone could look so friendly and still very threatening at the same time. "We're checkin' out a crime scene. Want to join us?"

"Murrfmurrf hurda hurr murrf murfff!" The Pyro gestured emphatically. (The Heavy is missing from his room!)

Engineer's brows rose over his goggles. "When'd you find that out?" he asked, puzzled.

"Mumf murr, hurr muf." (I looked, just now)

"Well I figured that much," Engie remarked. "Did somethin' seem off though, or were y'all pokin' around in his room for somethin'?" He didn't sound accusatory at all, just curious.

"Murrherrfmurr muh HURRF," said Pyro. (I made dinner and he didn't turn up.)

"I vas just looking for him to thank him for somezhing he did during zhe last battle," said the BLU Medic, and didn't blush.

Engineer nodded. "All right, that makes sense. Lead on, docs."

BLU snorted, and led the way to the Heavy's room. It still smelled. Sasha was still crooked and smudged. The window was open.

RED frowned and moved to the window. "Mmm. I did not notice zhis last time I vas in here. Vould zhe Heavy fit zrough-"

There was a soft noise and a click. He turned to see that the Engineer had shut and locked the door. His expression was unreadable.

"All right, this is what's gonna happen," he said softly. "Y'all are gonna tell me straight-up what's goin' on, or we're gonna have ourselves a problem."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Well... here's chapter three. We still don't own TF2. I think my cohort expected me to write something cooler here, but I really can't think of anything. So go ahead and read it if you're interested.**

RED's angry retort of we just told you what's going on died on his lips. He looked uncertainly to BLU Medic.

BLU gulped. "A consultation," he said after a moment.

Engineer looked at him very hard for a moment. "A consultation. Right. That don't explain why we've inexplicably got two Medics. I know what you said, but I've got reasons to think we shouldn't have two of y'all here. So what's it gonna be? Are you gonna be straight with me, or am I gonna have to persuade you?"

Pyro hefted the flamethower thoughtfully, the blank stare fixed on the Medics. BLU looked at RED, hesitant. There really wasn't a good way this could go.

RED tensed at the sight of the flamethrower and forced his eyes back to the Engineer. "Alvight. Alvight, but it's not vhat you zhink it is. I am not a Spy, but zhe, ah... your Medic was very vorried about vhat happened to zhe BLU Heavy, und even if I am not on your side... vell somezhing like zhis could very vell affect all of us. It does not feel right."

Engineer frowned. "You're the RED Medic. All right... I think I understand."

BLU nodded. "I called him in for help," he said after a moment. "You, him, und zhe Heavy are zhe only other intelligent people on zhe teams who vouldn't try to kill me on sight. It vas zhe only logical zhing to do."

Pyro made a huffy noise and lowered the flamethrower.

"I'm sure he didn't mean you're stupid, Pyro," Engineer said reassuringly. He didn't put his gun down just yet. "All right, I believe y'all, but don't expect me to trust a RED just yet."

"I am fine vith you just deciding not to shoot either of us," RED Medic said, obviously relieved. "Zho... vhat now?"

"Ve find zhe Heavy," said BLU. "Herr Conhager, vhat do you zhink?"

"Hurrf," said Pyro and went to look out the window.

"Hm." Engineer sidled over to the window, still frowning slightly. "They might-a been able to fit him through the window. Trouble is, who would be able to pick him up? He's... well, heavy."

"Ah... is zhere any chance zhey stowed him here?" RED looked around the room. "Unlikely. Perhaps zhere vere more zhan von of zhem?"

"That'd make sense. Unless he was slippin' off for some reason and wanted folks to think he'd been abducted. No idea why he'd do that though."

"He wouldn't," said BLU with conviction. Pyro said something snarky that came out as, "Hurr hurr hud hurr hurr hurr hud hurrr. Durrhurss." (Of course you'd think that. Dumbass.)

Engineer just barely kept himself from smirking. "I didn't think he would either. But even with a good amount of people here to get him, they couldn't have got him too far unless they had a truck or somethin'. Actually... have any of y'all seen or heard a vehicle leavin' the premises recently?"

"Huss. Hurburt hurn hurr hurgah." (I guess. About an hour ago?)

BLU nodded. "I thought I heard something. But he was gone by then."

"Well we'd better go check if we can find tire-tracks. And if there are any, maybe we can follow 'em."

RED Medic gave him a slightly uneasy look. Hopefully they wouldn't run into anyone else. He could only imagine what BLU Soldier's reaction would be if he saw there were suddenly two Medics.

BLU Medic frowned a little. "Maybe you should go back and check on your team," he said to RED. "If he's still on the base, he's likely to be there...and one of them might be missing if it's someone else doing this." He said this loudly enough so the Engineer could hear him.

Engineer's face was inscrutable again as he watched them. RED Medic nodded. "Yes, zhat vould be prudent. I'll take zhe sewers." With one last nervous glance at Pyro and Engineer, he walked out of the corridor and down the steps into the sewer entrance.

Engineer turned to BLU Medic. "Now that he's gone..." He leveled his shotgun at the Medic and without further preamble let off a round directly at his chest.

"Zhat is not good for your ears," said the Medic, wincing. "Really, vas zhat-Pyro stop zhat! I am not a Spy!"

Pyro shrugged a little and lowered the flamethrower, looking at Engineer. "Hurd hursh hur hurr hurd hurm?" (What should we do with him?)

Engineer looked puzzled. "Well, he's not a spah then. But you know... a traitor's just about as bad. Because so far as I can figure, y'all might have taken the Heavy yourself. And if y'all did that, well. Who's to say who you're workin' for now?"

"I would nevah hurt zhe Heavy," snapped the Medic. "My relationship vith zhe ozzah Medic is vone zhat is purely scientific; ve are professionals in zhe same field and sharing notes is vital, as you yourself know, Herr Conhager!"

Engineer's smile was a little too reassuring. "Yeah. Except y'all don't see me meetin' the RED Engineer in the dead-a night and tryin' to sneak him into my own base now, do you?" He glanced at Pyro. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Hu hurr hurt hur hurd hu uhr hurrt," said Pyro. "Hurd hu hurrp hur?" (You saw what he did to our Scout. Did you help him?)

The Medic gulped, hard. "I keep my professional life separate from my academic life," he said firmly. "As does my counterpart. Simply because we may coauthor a paper does not mean that I will hesitate to shoot him on the battlefield or betray my teammates. What did Pyro say?"

"Pyro's askin' about what happened to our Scout. Askin' if y'all helped him with that little bit of experimentation. And to be frank I'm pretty curious about it too."

"I did not," said the Medic. "It was zhe reason I did vhat I did to zheir Spy. If you didn't notice, ve did vin zhe battle today because zhe RED Medic vas absent."

"Hu hurr." (Ya right)

"Really. Would I get that same explanation if I talked to Scout?" Engineer had taken a step closer to the Medic. He was shorter than the other man but powerfully built, and Pyro was there too. If it came to a struggle...

"Yes," said Medic, without hesitation. Then, desperately, "Herr Conhager, ve, RED Medic and I, ve figured out vhy ve all look alike. Ve're clones. Ve don't know who's zhe original for a lot of people, but zhat doesn't matter. Ve've been trying to find out. Zhere's no treachery about it, only inquiry. It doesn't go further zhan zhat. Ve've almost found a protocol that works. It vouldn't have been possible, vorking alone."

Engineer hesitated for the first time. "Well shucks, I'm surprised you and him weren't the first ones to disappear if that's the case. You know, with y'all pokin' your noses everywhere where they shouldn't be. If you're tellin' the truth, that is."

"It's not poking our noses vhere zhey shouldn't be. It's science," said the Medic, but he looked worried. "Despite my circumstances, I am still a scientist. I should zhink zhat you vould understand."

"I'm not sayin' that I wouldn't understand, if that's what y'all have been up to. I'm just sayin' it's not very wise. Have you ever stopped and thought about just how much about this whole business isn't bein' shared with us?"

Medic shrugged. "I vas grown in a test tube. Vhat do I matter? All I vonder is how videspread zhis practice is. An assay to determine vhether somevone is a clone vould be useful if it is. Necessary, perhaps."

Engineer looked slightly uneasy. "Yeah... well, there's probably a reason no one's told you yet. But y'all have GOT to stop meetin' up in the dead of night and crossin' over between the bases. What's gonna happen if Soldier catches you at it instead?"

Medic snorted. "As if ve'd be zhat careless. Haff a bit of faith in our intelligence; ve've been doing zhis evah since I vent missing zhat vone battle vhen he decided to see vhy ve looked alike."

"Mm." Engineer sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you think Pyro? You've been awful quiet."

"Huddhurrhud hurr hurr Hearrrh." Then after a moment, "Hurrn hur hurg hur hurrk." (We should tell the Heavy. Once we get him back.)

"What was that?" said the Medic, looking nervous.

"That makes a load of sense." Engineer turned to Medic. "Pyro said we should tell the Heavy once we get him back, that's all. So I guess that means we should start lookin'."

Medic blanched. "Please don't," he said.

"Herrr, hurf hur hukers hu, hurrturl hur hurrr," said Pyro, in a comforting fashion. Medic looked askance at that. (Hey, he likes you. Nothing to worry about.)

Engineer's brows shot up again. "...right. Uh, Medic, it's not like... anyways." He decided to just ignore that little bit of conversation for now. "Let's get out and look for tire tracks."

"Huuurt? Hu hurr hurrt hut huurrrr!" (What? It's totally trueee...)

"Yes," said Medic quickly. "Let's."

Engineer gave Pyro a half-exasperated look before leading the way out the door. "Good thing no one's allowed out there right now. Otherwise they might be all covered up from people walkin' over the darn place."

"Do you mean to sneak off zhe base?" asked the Medic, sounding suddenly more cheerful.

"Well yeah. That window doesn't open up onto anything inside the base you know." Engineer shouldered his gun. "Hopefully it's got some dirt or somethin' else impressionable there."

"Good," said the Medic. "Vhat are you vaiting for? Let's be going." And he shouldered his way to the fence.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors' note: Chapter 4 and 5 are really short, so we're doing a double update, hurrah! Also, thank you everyone for the reviews and follows. It's doing wonders for our egos. Wonders. The younger author's housemates have already complained. The younger author needs to stop writing about herself in the notes, but maybe that will make the older author start writing ****_more interesting ones._**

**Still don't own TF2. *sigh***

RED Medic hurriedly slipped his old uniform on (it smelled a bit worse for wear) and took the stairs two at a time. Right. He needed to look for the Heavy as best as he could. Fortunately there weren't a lot of places someone like him could hide anyways, or be hidden. He set to it, sneaking into bunks quietly as he could and looking wherever he could, but most everyone seemed to be where they were supposed to be. And no sign of the BLU Heavy.

Finally he made his way back toward the sewer, then paused. It was awfully quiet. Usually the Engineer was clanging away in his workshop at night.

There was a genteel cough behind him. "And what are you doing down here at this hour of the night, Docteur?"

Medic jumped and spun around. "Was? Oh... herr Spy, it's you. I vas looking for, ah, zhe Engineer. I had somezhing to ask him about his dispensers. Strategy and zhat sort of zhing." Hopefully Spy would fall for it.

"I have not seen him around," said RED Spy. "Neither have I seen you. You tend to vanish in the evenings, Docteur. You are not in your room, or the infirmary, or in any of our teammates' rooms. As far as I know, you do not possess a cloaking device. And I doubt the sewers are where a man of medicine would relax." He flipped open the cigarette case and offered it to the Medic. "Would you like one?"

"Ah, no, no zhank you. You know how I feel about vhat zhey do to lungs. And anyvays, I like to take walks in zhe evenings when it's quiet und no one is trying to shoot me. It is relaxing und makes it easy to zhink. Is zhat a crime now?"

"Their Sniper does tend to take pot-shots at people walking around outside at whatever hour the disgusting man is awake. And you'd get yelled at by Soldier. The nosy American would have noticed by now." Spy smiled a little and lit his own cigarette. "Besides, I haven't seen you."

"Perhaps I do not walk vhere you, Soldier, und BLU Sniper frequent," he replied. "Zhis really isn't any of your business. Vhy are you up anyvays? Und have you seen zhe Engineer?"

The Spy sniffed. "You smell as if you have just crawled out of a garbage can," he said. "There was a minor commotion over at the BLU base a bit ago, involving a truck. Are you trying my job, Docteur?"

"Vhat? No, no, but... vait, a truck?" Medic paused, trying to figure out the best way to go about this. "Vhat sort of commotion? I'm a little confused vhat you mean by zhat."

"Thumping? Truck engine starting up and speeding away? Does any of this sound familiar to you?" The Spy flicked at the pocket of the Medic's labcoat, plucked something from it. "Bits of banana peel? Their Pyro has a soft spot for bananas."

"I didn't haff a trash can nearby," Medic snapped, cursing his usual cleanliness. Because of course Spy wouldn't think for a moment he'd put that in his pocket. "But no, I had nozzing to do vith a truck. Vich vay did it go? Perhaps we can figure out vhat it vas."

The Spy appeared appeased by this. "I don't know," he said. "We could always go to look, of course, but that would involve sneaking off the base-I believe that this is something our contracts forbid during working periods."

"Vell... I zhink it's vorth looking into." Medic looked a little wary, but maybe... maybe they could find something out. So long as Spy wasn't luring him into a trap. Best to keep armed just in case. "Perhaps I can go und see if I can find any tiretracks, so you von't haff to be bothered if it turns out to be nozzing."

"I will show you my favorite route out," said Spy, amused. "You don't think a gentleman such as myself would neglect his... acquaintances... because of a foolish rule, non?"

"Ah... no?" Medic had a very bad feeling about this, but what would happen if he just refused? And he did want to figure this out. "Yes, ah, please show me."

"This way. By the way, I am surpised that you haven't seen Engineer. I did not see him at dinner. It was uncharacteristic." The Spy started up the steps by the entrance to the base, darted across the flat and into the gloom on the other side. There was a steep little hill there, a short scramble up to the road. They paused there, out of the glare of electric light, and waited. It was hardly quieter here; the hum of machinery was replaced by a humming, squeaking chorus of insects.

Medic caught his breath, getting a bit of his old impatience back with it. "I agree; zhat is vhy I vas looking for him."

"Interesting," said the Spy. "Very interesting. Duck under the wire here, Docteur."

"I haff no desire to be electrocuted, don't vorry." Medic ducked under the wire as instructed, blinking in the darkness. No moon, and the lights from the bases made everything darker by contrast. The road was only visible as a long pale streak of dust. "Now, vhere did you hear it?"

"Over here," said Spy, leading the way to a stand of trees near the BLU base. Something hooted, making both men flinch. It was with relief that they ducked into the copse. "Would you happen to have some sort of light? I would prefer to not set the trees alight."

"I zhink... vait." Medic dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small handheld light, the sort used to look into people's ears, and handed it to Spy. "It should be enough."

"Humph," said Spy, and flicked it on.

The needles in the center of the stand, where there was a little clearing, were stained with oil.

Medic looked satisfied. "Very nice. Let's hope zhis is not an isolated patch but a trail vhe can follow."

"It is enough to know that there was a vehicle here. When they got to the road, they would leave tire tracks. This way, I think." Then, looking up, the Spy switched off the light. "Quickly, Docteur, into the trees. There are people coming."


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors' note: As promised! Also, all of the action at Doublecross in-game is at night... Here we assume that, in universe, a lot occurs during the day as well. We just don't see it. **

**Don't own, yadda yadda. **

Medic pulled back into the trees when Spy spoke, tense. Was that the Heavy's captors returning to the scene of the crime?

A light much brighter than RED Medic's swept over the ground not too far away. "Well... looks like a truck came past here all right."

"Indeed," said BLU Medic's voice. The Spy tensed, drawing his revolver.

"Vait," RED Medic hissed, grabbing Spy's wrist. "Zhey are only looking for zhe same zhing vhe are looking for."

There was a pause. "Someone there?" came the Engineer's voice.

"I think you forget that 'e sewed an octopus to my nether regions," hissed Spy.

"Don't be such a baby; you are fine now!"

"Hey, come out with your hands up! We've got you outnumbered!" Engineer's silhouette could be seen raising his gun.

"Verdammt!"

"'ere's what we'll do," said the Spy. "I distract zem and you will take ze Medic 'ostage with zis." He handed his revolver to the Medic. "After zat, eet should be no eesue."

Medic held the revolver in one trembling hand. "Are you insane? I... no, er, perhaps vhe should just tell zhem vhat ve are-"

"There ain't no respawn out here, boys," Engineer called again. "I'm giving you to the count-a three before y'all get to experience the other side first-hand. One!"

"Do eet," snapped Spy, and stepped out of the trees into the road, his hands raised. He glared at the Engineer. "Rather late to be threatening me. Cease-fire was declared several 'ours...hours ago."

"Well we're not supposed to be outside the fence either, are we?" Engineer didn't lower his gun at all. "Pyro, could y'all make sure he's not armed?"

"Hudda _hurr_," said Pyro. (With _pleasure_.)

Medic clutched the revolver and slowly edged around the clump of trees. If he could get close enough, maybe signal to BLU Medic to play along...

Engineer's smile was mirthless. "Are y'all out here alone? I thought I heard more than one voice out here at first."

"You could hardly expect me to tell you _that_," said the Spy. "Planning to build something out here, are you? You know, that would be violating your contract. Our employers take firing people rather...literally."

"Hu hurrf." Pyro prodded Spy with one gloved finger, then checked him for weapons. Spy put up with it with an expression of resignation. He made a point of neatening his suit once Pyro had finished, and shuddered delicately.

BLU Medic watched nervously, just waiting for the Spy to notice him. He wasn't really looking forward to dealing with the RED Spy after the tentacle incident. He supposed this was better than on the battlefield...

There was movement in the trees. BLU Medic glanced to that side, saw nothing.

"Right. We'd better get back on base then. Y'all can go first, slow-like, and then you're gonna tell us in detail exactly what you're doin' skulking out here." He motioned with his gun to the door.

RED Medic groaned. He'd try once, but if his collegue didn't notice he'd have to just run out and do it. He waved a hand slightly once he was sure the Engineer wasn't looking toward him.

The other Medic was looking at Spy, and didn't notice.

"Go where?" asked the Spy, with withering scorn. "Really, you would think I was doing something suspicious out 'ere..._merde_...here, instead of merely taking a walk."

"Hurrda hurrf," said the Pyro, poking him with the flamethrower.

"Keep that away from me. Do you have any idea what soot does to my suit?"

"You're off base, ain't you?"

"And how is that your concern? I would think that every moment I spent off base would be one that you'd spend not worrying about your sentries." Spy's smile was vicious.

"Not if you're tailin' us or tryin' to get to our side undetected." Engineer was looking a little less inscrutable now. You could almost feel the hate coming off him in waves.

There was a click. "Nobody move! I don't vish to hurt anyvon!"

Engineer's head jerked as he turned to see who'd spoken. RED Medic had a revolver in hand, pointed at the BLU Medic's head, as he strode forward. He looked stricken.

BLU, for his part, froze and stared at RED Medic. He had an empty syringe in his coat pocket, but nothing more-and the plastic was still over the needle. Great use that'd be.

RED Medic aimed things at him on a regular basis, and he returned the favor. They'd killed each other many times over. It was sort of like a handshake at this point. But they were outside the Respawn area. This time, RED Medic could kill him permanently.

BLU Medic swallowed hard. It was hard to put any sort of trust in a man holding a gun on you.

"Hurrf," said Pyro, and jammed the flamethrower into the small of Spy's back. Spy staggered a bit.

RED Medic didn't intend to shoot. He was bluffing, and he didn't even know if he COULD bluff. Usually, if he said he was going to do something, he'd do it. It was hard to put that sort of conviction into his voice now. "Herr Pyro, I vould not do such things if I vhere you. Your team vill not do vell vithout a doktor."

No one moved for a moment.

"Pyro, back offa him." Engineer lowered his shotgun.

"Hut? Hu huuurdunt. Hur _hurrnds_." (What? He wouldn't. They're _friends_.) But Pyro lowered the flamethrower.

Spy smirked. "Thank you, Docteur. Now, gentlemen, we will leave you in peace. We'll be taking your Medic with us, to make sure that no one gets...overexcited."

Engineer didn't speak for a moment. Then, in a low, calm voice, he replied, "If he doesn't get back here safe and sound by tomorrow mornin', I'll drag you back out here and beat your skull in."

RED Medic sidled closer to BLU Medic and took his arm, obviously nervous. "Let's, er, go zhen."

"Oh," said the Spy, only looking more amused at the Engineer's reaction, "The only way you're going to beat my skull in is if you mistake it for one of your sentries...something I must admit to being surprised you haven't already done yet. Come along, docteurs."

"Vhat are you doing?" demanded BLU Medic, leaning away from the gun.

"Keeping ourselves from being unnecessarily damaged by your friends, come on!" hissed RED Medic. "Please."

Engineer didn't say anything. He just watched, fists clenched at his sides.

The BLU Medic looked back over his shoulder at the Engineer. He didn't like this. Last time he'd been kidnapped by the RED Medic, he'd wound up getting experimented on and it hadn't been pleasant. Their professional collaboration aside, he wasn't at all sure if he could trust the RED Medic otherwise. He wouldn't have trusted himself in the same position.

And then there was the Spy. RED Medic would be a very welcome alternative to the RED Spy.

"Hurrf," said Pyro, and waved. (Bye.)


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors' note: Short one today, sorry guys! Promise we'll make up for it tomorrow! **

**TF2 = Valve's. **

RED Medic waited until they were a good ways up the tunnel of the sewer before he sighed. "Now promise you vill not attack us or run, und I vill lower zhe gun."

"Unwise," said the Spy, from ahead of them. He turned around, eyeing both Medics with a bland, almost uninterested expression. "If you are not fond of holding another man of science-" the corner of his lip twisted just a little in a sneer, "at gunpoint, I will happily do it for you."

BLU Medic gulped.

RED Medic gave Spy a sharp look, his fingers tightening on the gun. "You gave me zhe gun, didn't you? I zhink I vill hold onto it for now, to make sure you don't do somezhing zhat all of us regret later."

"I wouldn't regret it," said Spy flatly, a statement of fact, no more. "And I think that it would be a perfect opportunity to find out what exactly the BLU team has done with our Engineer." He stopped in front of them. "I do suppose that you have adequate restraints to make sure our guest doesn't go anywhere?"

RED took a step backward, though the gun was still raised. "Ve vill not need anyzhing like zhat," he said hotly. "For one zhing, you underestimate zhe BLU Engineer. I do not zhink avoiding him vill be so easy if zheir Medic suffers harm. For anozzer, I vas helping him earlier to look for his Heavy. If BLU took our Engineer, zhen vhy did zhe Heavy go missing as vell?"

"You were helping him." Spy looked at both of them a long moment, said nothing. BLU Medic looked away. "I see. Then I suppose you think we should let him go."

"I zhink vhe should look togezzer to find out vhat happened to zhe Heavy und zhe Engineer, actually. If vhe aren't murdered in our sleep first because of you." RED Medic lowered the gun. "Vhe talked to zheir Engineer und zheir Pyro earlier as we looked. Zhey may see zhis as treachery."

The BLU Medic folded his arms. "And make my life more difficult as vell. Zhey might think I vas helping you by letting myself be kidnapped."

"I do not care how difficult your life is," said the Spy. "We'll send the Medic back, then. I won't mention this again, Docteur, as long as you tell me exactly what happened in the BLU base and what they found."

The BLU Medic straightened up and settled this labcoat better around him. "Does this mean that I can go now?"

"Go. Be eaten by wolves. I do not care," said the Spy, looking at the RED Medic.

RED gave him a very slight smile. "Please look after yourself. Zhe rounds vould get monotonous if zhey vere forced to fight vithout a Medic."

* * *

"Hudda hurda huuuh," said Pyro, patting Engineer on the arm. (He'll be fine.)

Engineer shrugged. "All I know is that if he isn't all right, a couple-a someone's aren't gonna be doin' all right." He paused, then a little smile crossed his face.

"Hurr hudda hurrhurrr." (He's good enough friends with the RED Medic.)

"You keep sayin' that. One way or another somethin' screwy's goin' on, but... well. I'm sure we'll be able to deal with it when it comes out in the open."

"Hurr...hud huy..." (Though...the Spy...)

"Yeah. Him too." He leaned back, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling. "You know... those Medics might-a been on to somethin' there."

"Hurr?" (What?)

"How to deal with pests, that's all."

"Hurt hurrr murrf hu huuurt?" (What do you mean by that?)

"Oh y'all remember the Scout and the Spah, doncha? What they did to 'em? I'm sure we could come up with some more permanent handicaps if somethin' goes wrong."

"Hurf." (Oh.)

"Just if somethin' happens," Engineer said firmly. "I'm not about to just start messin' around with people for no good reason. Y'all know me better than that." He settled back in his chair a bit further, light reflecting off his goggles. "It'd be a good way to warn the rest of 'em off..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Early update because the younger author is procrastinating about actually getting her bum to lab. Still don't own these guys! **

The BLU Heavy groaned and opened his eyes. Someone was tied up next to him; a glance showed it to be the RED Engineer, who stirred feebly. His helmet and goggles were gone; he looked strangely vulnerable without them. He frowned when he saw the BLU Heavy. "What... what the heck's goin' on?"

"Ah, you're both awake. That is good." The voice was clipped, almost mechanical. There was a note of smug satisfaction behind it. A thin dark silhouette appeared in the light of what might have been a doorway. This was blotted out almost immediately as something large moved behind it.

"What does little man want?" demanded the BLU Heavy. Though the RED Engineer was usually an enemy, he was quite sure that the little thin man was far more of a threat.

There was a slight noise that might have been a chuckle, and then the flare of a cigarette being lit. "You will find out soon enough, gentlemen." There was no accent to the voice; it was bland, unplaceable, and there was something about it that made the hair on the back of the Heavy's neck stand on end. He'd encountered men like this before, in the gulag.

Engineer's gaze sidled to the Heavy, then back to the man. They had a common enemy, it seemed. Not that it mattered with them both trussed up like this. His eyes narrowed at the stranger. "If y'all don't mind, I think I'd rather hear what we're here for sooner instead-a later."

Another almost-laugh sort of a noise. "I'm under no particular obligation to tell you. You'll find out when the egg-heads come for you."

"And what is meant by that?" said the Heavy, glaring. He tried the strength of the shackles. Useless. They'd thought ahead.

"I thought my meaning was plain, my strangely proportioned friend. Suffice it to say that you'll be doing a good deal more for us than your previous... owners."

Engineer's frown became marginally more pronounced, a crease forming between his brows. "Look, I may not know who you or these 'egg-heads' are, but y'all've bitten off more than you can chew this time. If y'all got any sense, you'll take us back to our respective bases pronto." He glanced at the Heavy again. He looked unharmed as of now. If they did need to make a break for it...

"The scientists," said the man. There was a gleam of teeth in the darkness as he grinned. "And let me assure you, I have perfect sense. You simply have no grounds to threaten me."

"There, you are wrong," said the Heavy, in a slow, threatening rumble. "Teams will notice disappearance, come looking for you. Men may not be smartest, but hired for reason. Unlikely to let this be." He thought of the BLU Medic, the ridiculous way that the man seemed to need to prove himself, and snorted. "Very unlikely. Also very annoyed."

"I'll take my chances," the stranger said in an off-hand voice, as though Heavy had been asking him what time it was. "And goodness, it appears that they're here already." There was the sound of an engine, then the sound of an engine stopping, as though someone had parked a van just outside the room.

"Then you've gotta be crazy," Engineer said flatly. "Dealin' with a Spah or a Demoman's hard enough when there's just one of 'em, but you get both teams comin' after you? I hope you've got your will all squared away." While he talked, his mind spun wildly to assess the situation. He and the BLU Heavy were both bound to... gurneys? Tables? Probably the former. From the feel of things his legs were tied down too, no help there. But had they... He flexed the fingers of his right hand and felt a little spark of hope. That was one detail overlooked.

Something heavy and hard was brought down smartly on his arm. "None of that now," said the voice. "I'll be watching."

Engineer just kept himself from yelling. Dammit that hurt! He turned his head slightly to scowl at the man, but he was distracted. A good amount of people were filing into the room, all rather indistinct and clothed in white. The scientists then.

"Little man is coward," rumbled the Heavy. "Face me on field, I make you cry like baby you are. Will do. Eventually."

"Yes, but for the moment you're incapable of doing anything to me," the man told Heavy in a bored voice. "I am the head of this little-heh-operation, and believe me, we are quite confident we will get satisfactory results. Now, we are going to ask you gentlemen a few questions before we get started. It would be in your best interests to answer truthfully."

"Do y'all really think it'll be that easy?" Engineer said, voice a bit harder and less polite than it had been before. "In case y'all didn't know, the Heavy and me here die on a daily basis, multiple times, as part of our jobs. I've been fried, stabbed, shot, and gibbed more times than I can count."

A long low chuckle. "There's no Medic with a magic healing gun here, gentlemen. There's no respawn. No points to capture, nothing to rush over. Time, gentlemen. It will not be your friend if you don't cooperate." He struck the Engineer again. "Do I make my point?"

There was a rumble of anger from the Heavy, but nothing more.

"That's right. Arguing is pointless," sneered the head.

Engineer let out a hiss of pain, eyes squeezing shut. "Yeah," he grunted. "Except y'all ain't gonna kill us."

"And you think that's a good thing?"

The Heavy looked at the ceiling. It was wiser to stay silent, not be a target. RED Engineer killed his teammates on a daily basis; he owed the other man nothing.

Engineer, meanwhile, seemed to be building up a cold, hard anger as he talked, and that was something. It might keep him from, well, buckling under pressure later. "Yeah, actually, I do. Whatever y'all need us for, I figure y'all will need us to function on some level for it to work."

"Oh? And why do you say that?" The head had gone back to sounding bored again, though there was something under it like glee.

"It's got somethin' to do with us personally," Engineer replied. "Why'd you go after a buncha mercenaries in the middle of New Mexico when y'all had so many easier targets around? And why'd y'all go to the trouble of gettin' one of us from each team?"

"Oh, you'll have company soon enough. If that kid hadn't gone out the window so fast... No, it doesn't matter. He'll be dealt with. As will you."

"Why not? He sounds encouraged enough already." But Engineer fell silent anyways. He knew that the man was trying to get others as well. Some of 'em from his own team, most likely. He couldn't help but think of Pyro. Let's hope that doesn't happen.

"Engineer," said the Heavy after a moment, "Don't. You encourage him."

"Yes, listen to your big friend," the head replied. "If not, well. I might lose my patience. And people generally don't like it when I lose my patience, even if I need them alive."

"Not friends," growled the Heavy.

"Now," said the man, "Who else on your teams is like you? Clones, that is."

Engineer paused. That hadn't been the question he'd been expecting, but... well, that was the only plausible explanation. For a while now he'd thought cloning must have had something to do with it, but he'd hoped... He groaned and closed his eyes. "Great. Figured it woulda been me."

"Do not know what little man is talking about."

"Clones? You don't know what those are? You spend enough time around that Medic that I'm surprised by that." The head leaned over the Heavy, his face coming into full visibility. Not the Spy. The Heavy had wondered, with the cigarettes and all of the 'gentlemen' comments. "A clone is a replica. A biological copy of an extant organism, perfectly alike down to the last codon. You're a clone, Heavy Weapons Guy. You were grown in a test tube, from a bit of skin from the RED Heavy. Then they stuffed his memories in your head so you're the exact same person. Except you're a fake." A nasty smile.

"Lies," said the Heavy.

"You're the baby," said the head. "When did you sign up? When do you think you signed up for this? It was only a few months after that. Two years, at most?"

The Heavy glared at him. "Lies," he said again. "Have seen things, little man. They are not fake."

"Oh, no, they're not. They're just RED Heavy's, not yours. You're a thief."

"Lies."

"It don't matter," Engineer said harshly. "We've done things since then; those are our experiences, no one else's. You've still got friends at your base, big guy; even if we're clones, that's not somethin' they can just- agh!"

He was cut off by another sharp blow. The head was looking down at him, not frowning exactly but not smiling anymore either. "Actually, that is something I wanted to talk with you about, Mister Heavy. You are rather good friends with your team's Medic, are you not?"

"Medic is credit to team," said Heavy.

The head turned his gaze to Heavy, eyes narrowed as he considered him. "It just so happens your little friend will be joining us soon. Does that make you happy, knowing you'll have a clone-buddy here to keep you company?"

Engineer's eyes were squeezed shut and he was breathing a bit heavily. He didn't bother interrupting this time.

"Doktor is smarter than that. Would not be surprised if came after you, instead of other way. His team-" he looked at the Engineer, "My team, not going to be happy. None nice people. None forgiving people. Will have to bury you in pieces."

"I might be more concerned if I were the one chained to a table. In case you didn't figure this out on your own," and here he leaned forward, the slightest of smiles crossing his slightly-familiar face, "we were able to infiltrate your base and take you without anyone noticing. None of your team saw us coming in. I doubt even your boss knows yet. Suffice it to say, I consider myself safe for the present time."

The Heavy just snorted.

"That's what I thought. Now, shall we proceed? Anything you'd like to get off your chests before we begin our investigation?"

Engie cracked one eye open. "Nothin' I can act on in my current predicament, no."

"Well then." The head clapped his hands together and looked over to the white-coated people. "Whenever you're ready."


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors' note: Aaaand we're back! Hope all enjoy! We don't own TF2, ect ect. Now back to our dear Medics, and away from the creepy villain. **

The Scout fidgeted. He didn't like the infirmary. He didn't like it when it was occupied, but he disliked it infinitely more when it was unoccupied and waiting to be occupied. Also, the gurney was kind of low to be sitting under.

It wasn't like he was scared of them, no sir! He was just under here because it gave him a strategic advantage over those big suited creeps and the skinny one with the creepy-ass eyes and the creepier-ass smile. He could break their fingers better from under here. Besides, their freaking arms were too fat to get around the gurney. His hand clenched on his bat.

If they came after him, that was. The infirmary was a pretty creepy place, considering. He would be happier than he'd want to admit to freaking anyone that they hadn't turned up. Hell, those guys had looked like the Heavy in a suit and that was just not right.

The infirmary door opened. Scout hefted the bat.

RED Medic ran his hand over his face as he pushed the door open. First BLU Heavy, then their Engineer... and the other Engineer was about ready to kill one of them... egh. He needed to sleep this off; maybe the whole mess would make sense in the morning.

As he passed the gurney, he paused. It wasn't like he saw anything, but... well, something seemed off.

"Hello?"

"Doc? That you?" The Scout put the baseball bat down and tentatively poked his head out. "Man, it's been crazy. Some dumbasses tried to kidnap me."

"AGH!" Medic jumped, clutching at his pocket (where his syringe gun wasn't, at the moment). Then he realized who it was. "Verdammt Scout, vhat are you doing in here? You almost gave me heart failure!"

"What am I doin' in here? Man, it's afta midnight! Don't you, like, sleep?"

"Sometimes," Medic grumbled as he relaxed. "Vhen zhe rest of zhe team allows it. Vait... vait, you said somevon tried to abduct you?" His brows rose, and he motioned to the gurney. "Please, take a seat, und tell me vhat happened. Every detail."

"Yeah!" said Scout, crawling out from under the gurney. "Like, eight big guys who looked sorta like tha Heavy and one skinny creepy-ass jerk. I jumped outta tha window and ran off. I think I lost 'em in tha sewers."

"In... in zhe sewers?" Medic's face paled. "Scout, does zhat mean zhey are here, in zhis building?"

"They were," said the Scout. "This was like, an hour ago, tops. They were in my room, man! I was...I was just readin' a sports magazine and then they just walked in like they owned tha place."

"Mein Gott... und... und how much like zhe Heavy did zhese people look? Did you recognize zhe thin von? Zhis might explain everyzhing, if only... gah." Medic rubbed his forehead, looking anxious.

"I never saw tha thin one before in my life! And the thugs? They looked like tha Heavy stuffed inna suit! It was just wrong."

Medic gave him a long, hard look. "Zhis is very... zhis explains it, partially. Scout, you haffen't seen our Engineer lately, have you? Or zhe BLU Heavy?"

"Last time I saw tha BLU fatass, he was blowin' my face off. Haven't seen ol' hardhat neither."

RED Medic shook his head. "It's as I thought. Vhe... vhe need to get all of our team togezzer to talk about zhis. Und if possible, vhe may need to talk vith BLU as vell."

The Scout gave him a look of deepest suspicion. "Whydya wanna talk to the BLU dumbasses? It coulda been them! Besides, I'm sure tha rest of tha team can beat offa bunch a creeps. Why ya so worried?"

"Because zhey have already taken two of us!" Medic snapped. "RED Engineer is gone. BLU Heavy is gone. Und if zhey vere able to take zhem, what chance do zhe rest of us have? You escaped ONCE, und it vas a narrow escape besides, vasn't it?"

The Scout stared at him. "You gotta be jokin'. Engie? Tha BLU fatass? Gone? Who'd want 'em?"

"I'm glad you got zhere at last," Medic replied with an eye roll. "As far as vhat zhey vant, ve don't know." He paused, then unceremoniously added, "Maybe zhey went for you because you're a clone. You might not be..." he cocked his head, as he thought about it, and went on anyway. "But... no...if zhey vere looking for clones zhe BLU Medic vould have been taken too. Anyvays, vhe may need to hide you somehow, at least make sure you aren't on your own at any point during zhe next few days."

"What tha hell's a clone? I ain't a scientist, Doc. You make me sound like I'm a freak or somethin'." He made a face, evidently trying to look as 'freakish' as he could.

"Egh... in a vay, if you vant to look at it like zhat. Haffen't you EVER zhought it vas odd zhat zhe BLU Scout looks exactly like you, und somehow you aren't effen related?"

'Oh," said the Scout, suddenly subdued. "This mean I'm, like him but not him?"

"More or less," Medic said with a wave of his hand. "Now. Zhat doesn't matter."

"That doesn't matter? If it ain't because we're freaks, then why is anyone tryin' ta kidnap us? I mean, we're out in tha middle a nowhere an' we're a bunch a terrifyin' mercs, Doc! It ain't like anyone tells us anythin', so it can't be for info. C'mon, Doc, just think about it!"

Medic blinked at him, nonplussed by the sensibleness of what he'd suggested. "Ve can't jump to conclusions," he said, carefully. "It could also be for leverage-"

"Against who? Tha Administrator? RED? They don't give a rat's ass about us and you know it, Doc. If it's less trouble to train a new merc, they'll let us hang."

"Are you sure you are feeling quite vell, Scout?"

"Well, my heart's still racin' from ya comin' in here an' that stupid gear ya put in is making weird noises an' I got this weird scaly patch in my armpit here-"

The Medic sighed. "You vere acting unusually sensible," he said.

"Oh. Ya don't need sense ta be able to see half that stuff, Doc. Rich people don't give a shit about us unless it's savin' them money."

Medic refrained from pointing out that, with his current salery, the Scout was one of those rich people and said instead, "It does seem like a possibility."

"See! I'm always right. I said, with a creep like that, they're doin' somethin' really creepy. Like stealin' people cos they were made not grown or whatever people do. I mean, that guy leading 'em? He was creepier then you. So whada we do now, Doc?"

"Now, vhe need to do vhat I suggested. At zhe very least vhe need to make sure none of us are alone for any period of time for a few days at least. I zhink I would be safe, but as vhe haff only eight left now..." He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. "Perhaps vhe can talk vis zhe ozzers soon. As it is, vell, you can stay in here for now if you like. Provided you touch nozzhing."

The Scout nodded. "Guess I gotta, then. That guy was as bad as BLU Medic." He paused in the door. "Hey, Doc? If I'm a copy of BLU dumbass, what are you? You or tha BLU creep tha original?"

"From vhat vhe have been able to figure out, I am. Zhat's vhy I may not have somezhing to vorry about, unless zhey vant to get zhe originals eventually to make comparisons."

"We?" said the Scout, looking suspicious. "You been workin' with tha BLU creep? Dat's screwed up, Doc."

"Vhat? No! No, I meant... vell..." Medic shifted his weight uneasily. "Vhe haff... compared notes. Vhe vere just curious about how zhere vere two of us. It happened vhen he, vell, you know how he is vith... experimenting und zhings like zhat. Vhe talked und zhen... vhe just started researching it." He sounded a bit like a guilty child caught in the act of watching a tv show his parents had forbidden.

"So you, like, kidnapped eachodda and then compared notes? Man, that is even more screwed up. Like, that's more screwed up then tha BLU Scout's mom screwed up. Like, more then you an'-er- more screwed up then da Soldier's freaking roommate screwed up."

"If you vere going to refer to zhe Demoman und... vell, zhat is my business und not yours. Und perhaps you can extend your vocabulary a bit."

"That's no business of yers, old guy," said Scout. "I'll go get my things, yeah?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors' Note: In which the plot speeds up, we get to see more of Demoman, the younger author does a cruddy job of the intro because of packing, and Soldier almost dies in a fire. Enjoy. (We still don't own TF2 but you knew that because this is filed under fanfiction.) Also all the people who've written reviews or followed this absolutely rock. Thank you! **

BLU Medic crept into the infirmary and sat heavily in his chair. It had been a very bad day. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed the sore bridge of his nose. He should go tell Engineer and Pyro he was back, but he was just too damned tired. Besides, they might have heard the door close by now.

After a moment, he kicked off his beslimed boots and leaned back in the chair with a sigh.

He didn't get more than two seconds to relax. Two hands crashed down on the arms of his chair, bringing it down to the floor with a sharp thud. The helmet and bared teeth of the Solder obscured the Medic's vision.

"WHERE IS THE DAMN HEAVY, FRITZ? TELL ME RIGHT NOW!"

Medic hadn't had a good day. He kneed Soldier reflexively, before he realized that no one had tried to kidnap him and switched his tactics from 'ohgodohgodohgodkillitdead' to 'scream right back'. "I DON'T VERDAMMT KNOW, SCHWEINHUND! YOU TELL ME!"

Soldier was either wearing a cup or for some other strange reason couldn't feel Medic's knee, because he didn't respond to it immediately. "YOU'D BETTER NOT, MISTER, BECAUSE IF YOU ARE LYING TO ME RIGHT NOW I WILL MAKE SURE YOU NEVER LIE TO ME AGAIN! IN A VERY UNPLEASANT WAY!"

"AND YOU HAD BETTER GET OFF OF ME OR I VILL MAKE YOUR NEXT PHYSICAL ZHE STUFF OF NIGHTMARES! I VILL SIC ZHE PYRO ON YOU!"

It was this last part that made Soldier back off of the chair. "You're not in charge of the Pyro," he grumbled, but he didn't make any move to tackle him again. "ANYWAYS, I AM VERY CONCERNED BECAUSE I CANNOT FIND THAT GIANT COMMUNIST ANYWHERE. I LOOKED IN THE REFRIGERATOR, IN THE ATTIC, IN THE DARKROOM, AND THERE WAS NOTHING!" (needless to say, they didn't have an attic or a darkroom.)

"JOIN ZHE VERDAMMT CLUB," snarled the Medic, then, getting ahold of himself, "Ve think he vas abducted. Zhe REDs ah also looking for zheir Engineer."

"WAIT JUST ONE MOMENT, WHY WERE YOU TALKING TO REDS, HERR DOKTOR?" Soldier replied, bristling. "THEY ARE THE ENEMY AND WE MUST SHOOT THE ENEMY!"

"Zhey kidnapped me," said the Medic, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Ve vere investigating und zhey vere too und zhings got heated. Zhey thought zhat ve'd taken zheir Engineer. Ve thought zhat zhey took our Heavy. Zhere vas a...disagreement."

"...oh. Well that's different." Soldier set his jaw and regarded Medic for a moment. "DID YOU KILL THEM ALL WITH YOUR BARE HANDS, BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE."

"I made zhem regret it, yes," said the Medic, deciding that there were times when strict scientific honesty was not called for.

"NOW THAT'S WHAT I LIKE TO HEAR DOC!" Soldier slammed his hand into Medic's back in what was supposed to be a reassuring pat, apparently. "YOU'VE DONE THIS TEAM PROUD."

"What in the sam hill is... oh." Engineer stuck his head inside the infirmary, wiping one hand off with a greasy rag. "Y'all got back all right, huh doc?" He sounded slightly suspicious.

"Yes," said the Medic. He climbed to his feet.

"Mmph mummph hurr?" said the Pyro, peering around the Engineer. "Hurrf mmmmph mummphhurr?" (Did they kill you? Any clues about the Heavy?)

Medic looked at the Engineer for a translation.

"Pyro's askin' if they killed you- which I guess is a no- and if y'all found any clues about where our Heavy's got off to?" Engineer tilted his helmet back slightly from his goggles. "And I'm kinda curious about how y'all got out, myself."

"Zhey had an argument. I left," said the Medic, with a glare.

"All right. Just makin' sure. It's just kinda hard to figure out why, well..." Engineer glanced at Soldier and hesitated. "You know what I'm talkin' about."

"WHAT, YOU JUST LEFT DURING AN ARGUMENT?! I THOUGHT YOU PUNCHED SOMEONE AT LEAST! WHY DIDN'T YOU SHOVE THAT GUN OF YOURS UP SOMEONE'S ASS AND GIVE THEM SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT?"

"Soldier, he never said he didn' do anything; if y'all were listenin' properly you woulda caught that."

"Zhey did regret it," said Medic. "Zhey let me find out about vhat had happened vith zheir Engineer. Zhey veren't too happy about us finding zhat out. Oh, und I made zheir Spy suspect zheir Medic."

"...THAT'S VERY DISAPPOINTING."

"Soldier, could y'all get along real fast?" Engineer cut in, sounding annoyed. "I wanna have a word with the doc alone."

Soldier frowned. "WHAT ABOUT PYRO? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE THE PYRO LEAVE?"

"Pyro already knows what we're gonna talk about. It's all of our business, just not yours."

Soldier looked very put out at this. "FINE, I DON'T WANT TO HANG OUT WITH A BUNCH OF DOILY KNITTING LADIES LIKE YOU ANYWAYS!" He stomped to the door and slammed it shut. As he stomped off, they could hear him yell back "SO THERE!"

Engineer turned to Medic, arms crossed. "So. What really happened?"

The Medic shrugged. "Zhey had no use for me. The Spy vanted to interrogate me; the Medic talked him into forgoing zhe difficulty. I snuck avay vhile they vere occupied. Any further news?"

"Not besides me thinkin' we've got a little problem here. Pyro tells me you're friends, and I've noticed y'all don't seem as... well. Ready to kill each other as everyone else."

"Ve kill each ozzah plenty during battle," the Medic pointed out. "But out of it? Ve're zhe same person. Vhat point vould zhere be? Besides, it doesn't do to alienate vone's collegues."

Engineer's brows rose. "Colleagues? As in, y'all are workin' together on somethin'?" He sounded perfectly calm, but his posture stiffened a bit.

"Zhe cloning, dummkopf," said the Medic. "I vould haff done so vith you, but your eyes glaze ovah as soon as one starts talking about Biology. Vho else vas I supposed to vork on it vith?"

"Hey, I'm just fine when it comes to the practical aspects of biology, doc," Engineer snapped. "I just don't see the point-"

The door slammed open again. "I HEARD EVERY WORD OF THAT, MAGGOTS! THE MEDIC IS A SPY! SURPRISED, FRITZ? YOU DIDN'T EXPECT ME TO LISTEN AT THE DOOR, DID YOU!"

The Medic looked at the Engineer and Pyro for help.

"IF WE WERE IN THE ARMY I WOULD HAVE YOU SHOT. MAYBE WE WILL STILL HAVE YOU SHOT. BECAUSE SHOOTING IS WHAT WE DO TO TRAITORS LIKE YOU!"

"As if zhat vould be a lasting punishment," said the Medic after a moment.

Engineer turned on Soldier in a heartbeat. "The Medic is not a spah. Y'all don't know what you're talkin' about, but if you know what's best for you you'll back off right quick."

"I DO NOT BACK OFF! I AM AMERICAN! AMERICANS DON'T BACK OFF AND THEY DON'T BETRAY THEIR TEAMMATES OR THEIR COMRADES OR WHATEVER OTHER BIG FANCY WORD YOU TRAITORS HAVE FOR PEOPLE YOU FIGHT ALONGSIDE OF AND OCCASIONALLY WITH!"

"Und vhat vould you call your friendship vith zhe RED Demoman, zhen?" inquired the Medic.

"IF YOU MENTION THAT LYING ONE-EYED SCUMBAG IN MY PRESENCE AGAIN I WILL PUT THIS BOOT-!"

"Shh!" Engineer was looking up at the ceiling, frowning. There was a slight thump and the sound of raised voices.

"I DO NOT CARE ABOUT YOUR-FRITZ IF YOU TRY TO PUT THOSE BANDAGES IN MY MOUTH I WILL SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!"

And the doors opened again. "Gentlemen," said the voice of the Spy, "would you kindly shut ze fuck up? Eef you 'aven't noticed, it ees past midnight, and we 'ave a battle tomorrow."

The Medic groaned and ran a gloved hand over his face.

"Shh!" Engineer hissed again, and he pointed at the ceiling. The sounds changed to running, along with a very Australian "Help! Wot the bloody hell are you- nngh!"

There was stumbling.

"...I THINK THAT WAS THE SNIPER!" Soldier said after a beat. "IS HE SLEEP-FIGHTING? IT SOUNDS LIKE IT!"

Medic bolted out the door, closely followed by Pyro. They bowled the Spy (who was wearing a sleeping cap with a little tassel on the end) over and shot up the stairs. Medic still had the roll of bandages in one hand. Pyro was holding a charred teddy bear, with what looked like a can of kerosene showing through the rips in its belly.

"WAIT JUST ONE SECOND, YOU CAN'T INTERRUPT A SLEEP-FIGHT! THOSE ARE THE- THE NEXT PERSON WHO PUSHES ME IS GOING TO HAVE HIS STOMACH RIPPED OUT THROUGH HIS BELLY-BUTTON!"

Engineer had shoved past Soldier, shotgun in hand, to tail after the others. Soldier came stomping out a moment later with his shovel out.

As Medic and Pyro neared the stairs, they saw Sniper slashing wildly at- could that be Heavy?- with his kukri, trying to reach the bottom of the stairs. One stroke hit the man in the face, and he pulled back for a moment. Sniper turned toward the foot of the stairs again and saw Medic and Pyro. Before he could say anything though, another not-Heavy pinned his arms to his sides with one arm, his other hand clamping a cloth to his face. Sniper struggled for a moment then went limp.

Medic unwound the bandage a bit and looped it over the first man's neck, pulling tight. "Assistance, bitte!"

The Pyro hung back, pulling the can out of the teddy bear, puncturing it with some magically produced sharp object, and then looked up, inquiring.

"Nein! You might hit zhe Sniper!" A meaty fist struck the Medic's shoulder; he staggered. The Pyro made a disappointed noise, and hurled the can anyway.

The not-Heavy that hit Medic pulled back with a dull cry of surprise. The fiery-substance hit the one Medic was strangling in the face; in a moment he was engulfed in flames. He fell forward with a bellow like an injured bull's- which, unfortunately, meant falling toward Medic. And it looked like the fire was spreading to the Sniper's shirt.

"WAAAUGH!" Medic cried. He just avoided the thrashing mass, but he was still trapped at the top of the stairs.

"WAIT JUST ONE MOMENT BUSTER, THIS IS MY TEAM AND YOU DO NOT SET MY TEAM ON FIRE!" Soldier launched himself into the mess out of nowhere, teeth bared and looking about as crazy as he ever did. He trampled right over the burning not-Heavy and grabbed Medic by the back of the labcoat. "C'MERE PUMPKIN, WE'RE GETTING OUT OF HERE!"

"Vhat do you zhink you are- AUGH, PUT ME DOWN ZHIS INSTANT!" Soldier had swung Medic over his shoulders in a fireman's carry and went trundling back over the (now not struggling so much) not-Heavy. Medic tried his best to get Soldier's attention. "You idiot, zhe Sniper is on fire, vhat are you zhinking?!"

"MEDICS ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN SNIPERS," Soldier replied before dumping him a ways away from the fire unceremoniously. He didn't seem to notice the flames steadily creeping up his own pantlegs. Medic was going to point this out, but the other not-Heavy, the one he'd left half-asphyxiated, was clumsily beating flames off the Sniper and trying to regain his feet. Pyro rushed forward eagerly.

"NO, you are going to burn up one of our own team!" Medic cried. The thing Pyro was using was obviously not official, and had no 'friendly fire' settings. He got up and rushed forward (just in time to hear cries of "I! AM! ON! FIRE! THE BURNING!" from Soldier), but a hand clamped on his shoulder.

"Hang on," Engie said grimly. "If Sniper dies, he'll just respawn. The guy who tried to take him won't."

"I vould razzer it didn't come to zhat!" Medic replied angrily as he tried to wrench away, but suddenly the not-Heavy froze. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he slumped sideways to reveal the Spy tucking his knife back into a pocket on his night-shirt. He surveyed them all with a slight frown.

"Now then. Would anyone of you like to explain what is going on?"

"I WILL EXPLAIN IT." Soldier got up from the floor, where he'd just managed to shed his pants, and stood up in his slightly singed boxers. "THE MEDIC IS A SPY, ENGINEER DOESN'T LIKE BIOGRAPHIES, AND I ALMOST DIED IN A FIRE."

Engineer sighed while Pyro prodded the backstabbed Heavy, evidently disappointed. "How 'bout we get along to the infirmary and we'll fill you in there?" He stooped and threw the Sniper over his shoulder then started to lead the way back.

"I vill go start up zhe Medigun," said the Medic, sounding resigned, and headed for the infirmary.

"The Medic is a spy?" said the Spy, sounding deeply doubtful. Medic, hearing this, sighed. He remembered what had happened with the Soldier and the RED Demoman. He had no desire to experience it for himself.

"Hurrgh murrf mmmph murrf murflgh." The Pyro shrugged and hugged the teddy bear closer, radiating self satisfaction.

Spy looked at Engineer.

Engineer, for his part, didn't like the idea that the two Medics were in cahoots, but he also didn't like the way it was spreading around the team. He gave the Spy an expurgated translation. "Medic had an involuntary sorta conversation with the other team. He learned a lot, but Soldier ain't happy."

The Spy gave him a long 'you're fooling nobody' sort of look, and said nothing.

Engineer didn't bother responding. So far as he was concerned, Spy had dropped the subject. If it did crop up again- when, actually- then Medic would have to deal with it. It wasn't going to be pleasant, having the team mistrusting their doctor, but they'd iron it out and keep going. That's just how it was.

When they got to the infirmary, he dumped Sniper unceremoniously on the gurney. Soldier trundled in after them, carrying the remains of his trousers.

The Medic aimed the medigun at the Sniper, then frowned at the Soldier. "Get cold vater on zhose burns now," he said, pointing him at the emergency quick-drench shower in the corner. It was in very good order, the handle gleaming from use.

Soldier scowled at him. "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MY MOTHER? BECAUSE MY MOTHER IS TWICE THE MAN YOU WILL EVER BE!"

"Soldier, get in the damn shower," Engineer said in a flat voice.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry for late update. Move-in and dinner party got in the way. Standard disclaimer. **

The burns on Sniper were healing up nicely. "He should be coming around soon," said the Medic. "Anyvone else vith burns?"

There was a groan from the doorway. "You have any aspirin?" inquired the unusually quiet, unusually sober voice of the Demoman. The Demoman himself was leaning against the doorframe, a hand to his head, looking like something that the cat had dragged in. "It's been six bloomin' hours since I had a drink and by God if you lads keep it up with tha bangin' an' tha shoutin' and tha' fires and tha' chloroform I swear by tha' bones a me ancestors that I will put verra unpleasant things in yer beds, so help me God. Now give me tha goddamned aspirin, yeh scunners."

"DEMOMAN, HOW ARE YOU DOING?!" Soldier tromped out from under the emergency shower. Apparently he had thought that an emergency shower was the sort of thing you needed to take all of your clothes off for, except his helmet.

There was a groan, and Sniper blinked awake just in time to see Soldier standing majestically for everyone to see, a few feet from his head. He squeezed his eyes shut. "For God's sake pull on some pants."

Demoman trudged over to the shower, and pulled the lever again, sticking his head under the deluge with a groan.

"PANTS? I DO NOT HAVE PANTS! I BURNED MY PANTS PULLING YOU AND THAT TRAITOR OUT OF THE FIRE."

"It says bad things tha I'm used to these capers," grumbled Demoman, drenched.

"Traitor?" Sniper blinked, confused for one moment, then sat up much more quickly than he should have under the circumstances. He groaned and held his head.

"You all right son?" Engineer asked with a frown.

"Foine, so long as that bloody spook ain't here," Sniper replied. One hand still to his head, he scrabbled on a nearby table with the other. "Where's my hat and my glasses? He was disguised as the Heavy and came after me! RED Spoy was in our base during cease-fire! Damn it where'd ya put my things?" He swung his legs over the side of the gurney.

"It vasn't the RED Spy," said the Medic, putting a hand on Sniper's shoulder to restrain him. "It vas somevone else. Two somevone elses, in fact." He hesitated before adding, "The REDs lost zheir Engineer to zhe same people today."

"AND HE KNOWS THIS BECAUSE HE IS A TRAITOR," blared Soldier.

There was another moment while the rest of Medic's brain overruled the adrenaline and then he snapped, "And somevone get zhat damned corpse in here now! I vant to study it!"

Sniper scowled and tried to push Medic's hand off his shoulder. "Get offa me. And who was it if it wasn't that spook?"

"You tell us," Engineer said flatly. "The corpse ain't goin' nowhere doc. You can get it later if y'all want."

"I vhant it somevhat less crispy zhan it is getting!"

Engineer looked like his patience was being tested, but he just gritted his teeth. "I'll take care of it then, so long as y'all keep focused." He left the room.

Sniper had gotten to his feet and was pushing toward the door. "Hang on, oi wanna know exactly wot's going on!" he told Engineer.

The Medic sighed, glanced at Soldier's burns, pointed the Medigun at them and followed. "Herr Sniper, it is not zhe best idea to be on your feet so-ach, it isn't as if you're listening to start vith."

Sniper frowned at Medic over his shoulder. "Oi'll sit down aftah oi've got a noice long explanation outta someone." Which was when he tripped and fell headlong on the floor. "Oof..."

"See? I am alvays right," said the Medic to the Sniper. He sounded far more self-satisfied than was polite. He couldn't help it. He'd had a bad day. He pulled Sniper to his feet and dragged him back to the surgery. "Do not take those, Herr Demoman. Zey ah for chemically vorming zhe birds."

"Yes, and wha if I have vuuuurms?" said the Demoman, dragging the word out and taking great pleasure in it. He cleared his throat. "So. Would any a this be ta do wit' tha fact we haven't any ordas aboot tha battle tomorra? And it past meednight an all?"

They stared at him. He looked around at the blank, shocked faces and said, "Ah. Noon a yeh bithered to check, aye?"

"I did," said the Spy. "Before I retired for the night. There was nothing. They've been late before."

"That they have. But neva this late." The Demoman looked around. "Wha? D'ye think I spend all me time drunk? I'm tha last oone ta go ta bed, lads, bar tha Medic here. A body likes ta ken tha reason ta get sloshed ahead a time."

The Medic blinked, surprised and said, "So you check for our orders before you go to bed."

"Aye. Mostly fer tha times, so's I can know when ta sleep, but aye. And they always arrive tha day ahead, neever tha day of. An' now I find the lot a ye crashin' aboot and lettin' off skelloches and I think ta myself, Tavish me lad, even tha rest a this team ain't stupid enough ta go buggerin' aboot for no reason afore a battle. There's a connection here an it might hafta do with tha otha mighty strange thing ye foond tonight, so ye'd best tell em even if they did wake you oop from a mighty fine sleep."

"I DID NOT UNDERSTAND A WORD OF THAT FOREIGN BABBLE."

"Shoot oop," said the Demoman, and looked quite intently at the Medic and Engineer. Medic shifted uncomfortably.

"They took the Heavy already," he said after several seconds. "Ve noticed him missing zhis evening, and vent to look for him. Zhe RED Team had lost zheir Engineer, too, und now zhe Sniper almost vanishes."

"Ah, so somoon's really playin' silly buggers wit' us."

Engineer finally let go of the body, letting the arm he'd been using to drag it flump to the floor. "Yeah. And their henchmen all look like the Heavy. It kinda makes sense, as the doc figures this all has to do with cloning. Making copies of people, I mean." He paused. "That is pretty disturbing though, that the next match announcement hasn't come in. They couldn't-a got at the Announcer, could they?"

The rest of the team looked at each other.

"Nah," said the Demoman.

"Nien."

"Pas possible."

Engineer looked incredibly uneasy. "Then... how? Why didn't we hear nothin' about the next match?" He sighed and looked down to the charred corpse. "I guess y'all can dissect this guy now, Medic. Maybe you'll find out what kinda clones we're up against."

"I zhink zhat ve should try to contact zhem," said the Medic.

Engineer's jaw dropped. "...sorry, what?"

"Contact who again?" Sniper had apparently forgone lying down on the gurney. He was poking his head into the hall from the surgery, still hat-less and without his glasses.

"Our employers. If zhey are right-" Medic nodded at the Demoman and the Engineer, "Novone vill be zhere, so it von't matter. If zhey are zhere, ve vill be doing our duty in reporting zhe kidnappings. If zhe Spy vere to make zhe call, I am sure zhat he vill be able to spin it so zhat novone vill be able to get us for beach ov contract." He gave everyone a slightly mad smile. "If ve ascertain zhat no vone is there, ve vill be able to proceed accordingly."

Spy gave the Medic a very annoyed look. "Of course I am the one to take the fall in this little mad scheme of yours."

"Of course," said the Medic happily, and turned his attention to the burnt corpse.

"No complaints with that plan," Sniper replied, grinning at Spy and still looking slightly out of it.

"Now hold on just one minute," Engineer said with a frown. "What do y'all mean by 'proceed accordingly'? We need to think this through before we do anything!"

"Exactly," said the Medic. He looked up at everyone. "Isn't it obvious? If somezhing has happened to our superiors, it means somezhing's gone very wrong indeed. Since zhe RED team has been as much a victim as ve have, I zhink it unlikely zhat zhis is RED's doing. Zherefore, ve have an attack zhat is coming from outside our respective employers. Vhich means zhat ve are in very deep...ah, vhat is zhe English vord..? Ah. Sheet. Very deep sheet."

"But that's no reason to go jumpin' into things without thinkin' it through first! I mean... we don't know what these people are capable of! There's gotta be some way to find out more about 'em without runnin' into it blindly, if the bosses are gone!"

"Ve'd better find out if zhe bosses are gone, zhen," said the Medic. "You're right. Ve don't know vhat zhey're capable ov. Do you zhink zhat ve'll be able to deal vith zhem on our own, if it is true zhat ve cannot contact our employers?"

"It kinda depends if these Heavy-clones are the most they've got to throw at us, and how many of 'em they have. And other things." Engineer paused. "I do have some... stuff I've been workin' on in mah workshop," he said slowly, "in mah free time. Some of it might actually come in useful."

"I vould be interested to see it," said the BLU Medic. "In zhe meantime, Spy, if you vould?"

"I doubt that they'll be awake now," said the Spy, carefully enunciating his 'th's.

"Zhen ve check in zhe morning," said the Medic. "Engineer, if zhe ozzahs ah curious as to previous happenings, I vould prefer if you answered their questions. I vill be busy."

Engineer looked disgruntled but nodded. "All right doc. I'll get Sniper back up to his bunk unless you think he should stay here."

"He can go," said the Medic, and turned his attention to the work at hand, trying not to worry too much about his Heavy.

_"'Mien Heavy'?" RED Medic had said to him, the one time he'd been drunk enough to bring the subject up. "'Mien Heavy'? So he is 'Mien Heavy' to you already? Have a care, Herr Doktor. Joking like zhe ozzahs is all very vell und good vhen it is somevone else vho is zhe butt of it, but should you, how do they say it, you 'screw zhe pooch' hard enough, and it is I who is also in trouble! Ve may debate nature versus nurture, but our employers are very simple people who vill simply deal with zhis problem by elimination ov all possible future problems."_

And that bit of advice had kept him silent on the subject, other than the expected ribbing and insults and taunts. They shared the same memories, but the caution had been ground into RED Medic; there was simply no comparison between that and mere memory. Wish as he might to ignore it, the other Medic's advice was far more sound than his own.

He would not tell the Heavy how he felt. It was simply too dangerous, and not only for him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors' Note: Well one of us had to run off to do something unimportant like move to college, so that's why there was a bit of a delay here. TF2 still isn't ours, but this is a fanfic site and we've said that on every chapter already. If you don't understand that by now, there's probably something wrong with you.**

It was the next morning. The team sat in various places around the common room, poking at what passed as breakfast for each-really what they'd managed to scrounge up. The Scout had eaten the last of the cereal before anyone had gotten downstairs and no one was of much a mood to try to make anything more complicated, so most of 'breakfast' was really leftovers from various dinners.

The Spy stepped into the room. Everything went very quiet.

"'Zere was nozzing," he said. "Our employers are not responding. To anyzing. Even ze eemergency line."

Engineer looked grim as he set down his soup. "Well... I guess we don't have much of a choice, huh?"

"BUT... WE'RE STILL GOING TO KILL REDS TODAY RIGHT? BECAUSE WE NEED TO KILL REDS, THAT IS OUR DUTY TO AMERICA AND ALSO WHAT WE GET PAID FOR!"

The Medic gave the Engineer a hopeful look. "I don't zhink zhat is a good idea. I zhink zhat I may need another professional assisting me in zhe dissection today. It vill be informative."

"Wait, wait wait, did da doc just say what I think he said?"

"You must be joking." That was the Spy, all sophisticated disbelief. "You want to bring ze RED Medic over here?"

"I'll put all the top secret stuff avay first," said the BLU Medic.

Engineer wasn't sure what to say to that. He thought it inevitable that, eventually, they'd have to cooperate with RED to some extent. On the other hand he didn't trust that RED Medic as far as he could throw him.

"I... I don't think we can just invite any REDs over," he said slowly.

"DAMN RIGHT WE CANNOT!" Soldier leapt onto the table. "I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!"

"Soldier, get off the table. Look, all I'm sayin' is that... well okay." he turned to face the rest of the BLU team. "They're at risk too, and given what we're up against it might be better if we at least tried for negotiations."

There was an immediate uproar.

"If either of you blokes think I'm about to make friendly with that RED spook-" Sniper snarled, the scar on his face accentuated by his expression.

Engineer raised his hands. "It's just a suggestion!"

The Demoman cleared his throat. It was an extensive undertaking, and by the time he'd spat into a handkerchief, the room had gone silent. "I dinnae like this," he said, not looking at them. "But give me a RED bastard o'er a kidnappin' we dinnae ken tha author a. Tha REDs may kill us but tha's their joob, and oours as weel. This? This scunner isna oon a us. He's taken oour employas an oour coomrades an' I think he's a bigger threat than e'en tha damned Pyro. So if ye fash yerselves o'er the REDS, ye're stoopider than tha bloody barstard Sassenaches."

"You gotta be drunk, man," said the Scout. "Is anyone else hearin' what I'm hearin'? That RED quack sewed donkey legs on me! Donkey legs!"

"I havena had a drink since last night!" snapped the Demoman. "D'ye think I'm goin' ta get meself sloshed when I might be nabbed in outta me bed?"

Sniper looked a little taken aback. "Look, I understand the danger we're in, but d'you REALLY think we can trust them? Oi'll give ya that some of the REDs may come 'round to help once they know what's at stake, but what about that spoy? Think about all the dirty underhanded tricks he's thrown at us! How d'you know none of 'em are in on it?"

There was a pause at that.

"How do ve know none of us are in on it?" said the Medic. "Besides, I can graft somzhing nasty to zhe Spy if it'd make you sleep better, Herr Sniper."

Sniper looked very uneasy at Medic's words. His eyes flitted to the BLU Spy, and he hesitated.

"I... I suppose you're sayin' we don't have room for not trusting each other at this point, yeah?"

Engineer smiled. "Glad to see you're finally catchin' on, son."

Sniper grimaced but said nothing.

"YOU ARE PROPOSING GROSS INSUBORDINATION! YOU SHOULD BE SHOT!"

"Or kidnapped?" said the Spy, raising his eyebrows.

"How do we contact 'em, then?" said the Scout. "I mean, mosta us'd just be shot."

"Well usually folks use a white flag in situations like this," Engineer said dryly. "Personally I think it'd be easiest to just show up on the field with some obvious sign we aren't attackin', maybe send someone across as a messenger. They'll come to the battlefield anyways to make sure they didn' just miss out on the schedule change or somethin'."

"I'll go," said the Medic, before the Soldier could start shouting again. "I know zhat you lot expect it." He rose. "Vell? Shall ve get it done vith?"

"Hurr hi hurr mirrf hu?" (Can I go with you?)

The Medic looked at Engineer for a translation.

Engineer frowned, looking reluctant. "Uh... Pyro wants to go with y'all. You sure about that?"

Medic looked at the Pyro. The Pyro looked at the Medic, and somehow the immovable black rubber mask conveyed a sort of hopeful yearning.

"No flamethrower. No flare gun, no axe, and certainly none of zhat stuff zhat you used last night. No vepons at all." The Medic waited a moment to let this sink in. "Nozzing zhat zhey vill feel threatened by or anyzhing like zhat. Ve don't vant to attack zhem, do you understand?"

"Hurrm hur muuuufed." (I'm not stupid.)

Engineer smiled weakly. "Just be careful, all right?"

"Oi, he'll just respawn if somethin' goes wrong," Sniper pointed out.

"Yeah. I know." Engineer clapped Pyro on the shoulder before turning to the others. "Well if y'all are done eating, we should probably get ready to negotiate. Come on." As he passed Demoman on his way to the door, he said in an undertone, "Thanks."

"Nae problem." The Demoman gave him a rather sickly grin. "Ye wouldn't happen tae have any o' tha beer a yers lyin' aboot, would ye? Truth is, I havena had any o' me Scumpy fer a bit now; some wee bugger held up me shipment last week an' I ran oot two days agoo."

"Yeah, I can spare a few bottles until your stuff comes in." Engineer grinned. "I'll bring it when I come down."

"Oh, good," said the Demoman. "I feel better already. Noo, I want ta talk to ye aboot tha Medic..."

The Medic in question paused halfway over the causeway, looking up.

"Mmfurt?" The Pyro looked up too.

"Zhat is a big vulture," said the Medic, admiring, then shook his head. "I vould like a better look, but ve haff ozzah things to do."

"Murf." The Pyro shouldered the white flag and gave it a wave for the hell of it. It was a big flag. The only thing smaller than the tablecloth had been a sheet, and the flag was simply that folded in half and nailed inexpertly to a length of wood, so the flag itself was nearly as wide as the pole was long. It had been that or someone's undershirt, and though RED Medic and he had a sort of understanding, BLU Medic would much prefer to face him under a flag of truce not constructed from someone's underwear.

It was a glorious day. There was still something of the chill of the night, but the dryness of the air promised a hot day. Cicadas screeched in the pine trees; far, far below the causeway and the railroad tracks, the river boomed. It even smelled glorious. Hot, dry grass and dust and pine trees and not a hint of gunpowder or blood.

Until the first rocket exploded just in front of them. Medic and Pyro froze. A voice from on high spoke.

"STOP RIGHT THERE, MAGGOTS! YOU MAY TRY TO SNEAK IN BUT YOU WILL NOT SNEAK IN BECAUSE I AM WATCHING YOU! NOW PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR AND NO FUNNY BUSINESS BECAUSE I AM WATCHING YOU!"

"Enough," said the voice of the RED Spy. "They are under a flag of truce, Soldier."

"FLAG OF TRUCE! IT'S JUST A SHEET. IT CAN'T BE A FLAG OF TRUCE."

"I will deal with them. Docteur, with me, please."

A moment later, the RED Spy strode out of the door of the building, the RED Medic and RED Heavy following him. "What is it?"

The BLU Medic straightened up. The Pyro propped the flag up as best they could against the heap of sand in the middle of the causeway and slouched against it.

"Ve vant to negotiate," said BLU Medic.

"And what brought this on?" asked the Spy.

"Ve haff recieved no orders about today's battle, und our employers are unreachable, even on zhe emergency line. Zhere vas an attempt on Sniper last night. Ve zhink zhat zhis is not somzhing ve can deal vith alone. Ve vanted to know if the sentiments vere shared."

"You are proposing that we work together."

"Ja. I haff zhe corpse of one of zhe attackers in my surgery, if your Medic would care to examine it." BLU Medic looked at RED and raised his eyebrows.

RED Medic frowned as he gave the Heavy and the Spy a sidelong look. He didn't have a problem with this plan, but... well, they might.

"Ah... perhaps vhe could discuss zhis inside, or... vell what do zhe two of you zhink."

RED Heavy frowned as well, eyes narrowed. "The match not being announced is not good. But I am not wanting to let baby BLUs in here. May be trick."

The BLU Medic folded his arms. The Pyro huffed a little. "How many people have disappeared from your team so far?" he asked. "And zhen, on top of it, ve get no communication from our respective superiors? I do not zhink zhat zhis is somzhing zhat ve can deal vith separately. My team is in agreement." Mostly.

"Hurrfly," said the Pyro, and shrugged. The BLU Medic really hoped no one had understood that because he was pretty sure it had followed his own thought.

The RED Spy frowned at the other Medic. "After yesterday and your various surgical...exploits, you expect us to trust you?"

"Not that our Medic has not done same thing," Heavy said with a truly amused chuckle, though he still looked suspicious.

RED Medic looked somewhere between annoyed and resigned. "Zhat is probably not zhe best zhink to bring up right now, mein freund."

"It is true though." Heavy considered the BLUs thoughtfully. "We had one more go last night. Sniper is gone." He seemed to be watching them for their reactions.

"Zhey tried to take ours last night as vell," said the BLU Medic. "Haff you vondered vhat might haff happened to our employers?"

"Yes. Medic and I talked. Think they were taking clones." Heavy's frown became more pronounced. "But one Sniper must be first one, da? Why would they try taking both?"

RED Medic opened his mouth, hesitated, and decided to be quiet. It would be better for the others to answer anyways; RED Spy hadn't told everyone about him and BLU Medic collaborating, but it still wouldn't do to push the envelope. Especially when RED Heavy stood so resolutely behind him right now.

There was a pause. The BLU Medic looked worried. "I suppose there could be some use in comparing them..." he said, and trailed off. Then, he had an idea. He looked at the Heavy. "We killed one of the men who came for the Sniper. He looked like you."

"Oh?" said the Spy. "You leave my question unanswered, Docteur. Why should we trust you?"

"Your teammates are vanishing, and ve've heard nozzing from our employers. Ve fight every day; you're familiar vith our behavior, ja? And zhis? Zhis is different. I zhink zhat ve are no longer zhe vorst zhing you have to vorry about."

Heavy looked shocked and angry. "He was like me? How does this happen?!"

"Zhe BLU Heavy looks like you as vell," RED Medic pointed out.

"This is not BLU Heavy! This is very bad!" He shook his head. "Maybe BLU babies have point. Maybe-"

"STOP RIGHT THERE YOU SCUM-SUCKING FRUIT BASKETS!" Soldier charged forward, his rocket launcher out. He scowled at his teammates. "HAVE YOU LADIES GONE COLOR-BLIND? THOSE ARE BLUS! LOOK AT THEIR CLOTHING; IT IS BLUE! THEY ARE NOT ON OUR TEAM!"

Medic turned on Soldier impatiently. "Vhe are not idiots, Dummkopf! Zhey are here for negotiations-"

"THIS IS NOT STANDARD NEGOTIATING PROTOCOL MAGGOTS! I SHOULD HAVE YOU RUN LAPS LIKE THEY MADE US DO IN GYM! ARMY GYM!"

"What is standard protocol, Soldier?" Heavy asked.

"FIRST OFF, YOU BLU SCUMBAGS NEED TO PUT YOUR HANDS OVER YOUR HEAD SO I CAN MAKE SURE YOU AREN'T TRYING TO KILL US WITH WEAPONS! AND THEN WE WILL WALK YOU INTO OUR BASE AND YOU WILL SIT DOWN AND WE WILL BEGIN PROPER INTERROGATION PROCEDURES! I WILL DO IT BECAUSE THAT IS MY SPECIALTY!"

"I would not be trusting Soldier with interrogation," Heavy said flatly. "And this is negotiation, not interrogation."

"SHUT YOUR FAT COMMUNIST PIE HOLE!"

"Indeed," said BLU Medic to Heavy's response. "We'd like to negotiate a truce, not surrender ourselves to be interrogated. For one thing, I zhink it vould upset our own team quite a lot..." He raised his eyebrows at the RED Spy.

The Red Spy folded his arms, sorely tempted to go along with the Soldier's idea, for the sheer pleasure of seeing the damned Medic at a disadvantage. Tentacles, for God's sake!

But he was a professional. He cleared his throat. "We will need to consult with the rest of our team," he said. "We will have a response within a few hours."

"A few hours?" said the BLU Medic. "Zhe corpse on my operating table is not getting any fresher, Herr, especially not in zhis veather. I vould appreciate a fellow professional to aid me in its examination."

Soldier scowled and waved his rocket launcher threateningly. "WAIT JUST ONE DAMN MINUTE FRENCHIE! I DO NOT TRUST THE BLUS AS FAR AS I CAN BLAST THEM WITH A CROCKET, WHICH IS PRETTY FAR IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF! GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON NOT TO GIB BOTH OF THEM RIGHT NOW, IF WE AREN'T INTERROGATING THEM TODAY!"

RED Medic looked alarmed. "Soldier, please, vhe are TRYING-"

"I WILL NOT NEGOTIATE WITH PEOPLE WHO WILL TRY TO THROTTLE ME IN MY SLEEP, THE SNEAKY B-"

"Compromise."

"Vhat?" RED Medic asked, turning to Heavy.

"We need BLUS to not be blown up by Soldier. Soldier does not trust BLUs. We should compromise." He gave Soldier a stern look. "You will not kill BLUs or do interrogations. They will only be in custody for during negotiation, then we will let go."

"Vait, custody? Vhy?" The BLU Medic looked suddenly panicked. Custody was not a word with good connotations. It might involve their Pyro.

He still wasn't able to go into a barn without cringing. "Ve hardly haff anyzhing zhat you'd vant to know, Herr Heafy. Nozzing at all. Ve are negotiators, not prisoners."

The Spy smiled. It was not a nice smile. "An act of faith, then, Monsieur le Docteur. As was previously mentioned, my team needs a reason to trust you."

"But...but zhis is preoposterous!" snapped the BLU Medic. "Ve ah here under a flag of truce! Breaking of zhat vould lead to a very negative reaction from our team. Unless you ah proposing an exchange of hostages..."

"Huft hu huurd," said the Pyro. (What he said)

The smile grew a little. "Why, Docteur, do you not trust us? You said yourself that we weren't each other's worst enemies anymore... Besides, it's all your decision. You can just walk away. There won't be a truce, but we're not forcibly abducting you."

"You're coercing us," said the Medic.

"There is a difference."

The Medic looked at the REDs, then at Pyro. "You could at least let Pyro go..." he started.

The Spy shook his head, glanced at his teammates. Surely they'd agree.

Heavy shook his head slowly. "You both came. Both will stay or both will leave." He gave Spy the same stern look he'd given Soldier. "And is not interrogation. Not with interrogation techniques. We will be talking."

Soldier scowled. "YOU ARE TAKING ALL THE FUN OUT OF THIS."

The BLU Medic looked to Pyro. "Only if you agree, Herr Pyro," he said.

"Hurr, murf." Seeing their comrade's blank look, the Pyro nodded their head vigorously, stepped forward, and offered the RED Heavy the truce flag.

Heavy nodded approvingly and took the flag. "I think Medic and I should be taking charge here."

"NO SIR YOU WILL NOT!" Soldier barked. "I DO NOT WANT YOU GETTING TO BEAT THEM UP WITHOUT ME BEING THERE TO HELP!"

Heavy looked like he was going to argue with Soldier, but RED Medic spoke up. "Agh, just let him join us please. Vhe do not want him running off and trying to kill zhe entire BLU team to make himself feel better."

"...da, is good. Does Spy want to join us as well?"

"Yes," said Spy, looking like a cat with the cream. The BLU Medic became much more nervous. A sidelong glance at the Pyro showed the little maniac didn't seem worried.

"Then we will be moving now," Heavy replied.

"Ve don't need to put our hands up, do ve?" said BLU Medic, trying for sardonic. By the Spy's expression, he'd failed.

"I do not think that that will be...necessary," said the Spy.

"Oh, good," said the Medic.

"ALL RIGHT MAGGOTS, MOVE IT, AND IF YOU MAKE ANY WRONG MOVES I'LL BLAST YOU RIGHT BACK INTO YOUR STUPID LITTLE RESPAWN ROOM IS THAT CLEAR?" He ran these together so they were practically one sentence.

Heavy gave him an annoyed look but didn't say anything. RED Medic, meanwhile, hung back on the pretense that he was escorting the others. When he drew close to BLU he spoke in a low voice. "Are you doing all vight?" he asked.

"As vell as possible undah zhe circumstances," said the BLU Medic. "I hope ve can get zhis out of zhe vay. Last night vas not good."

"Hurrf," the Pyro agreed.

The Spy was gloating. Elegantly, of course. But gloating. It was the way he walked that gave it away. BLU Medic gave the impudent back a slit-eyed glare and folded his arms.

"Zhe Heavy is right," RED hissed even lower. "You vill not gain zhe trust of zhe others unless vhe go zhrough zhis farce. Zhe most you could do is act cooperative."

"What are you talking with them about?" rumbled Heavy.

"I'm having a hard enough time getting my own team to trust me," hissed the BLU Medic and looked up at the RED Heavy with a guilty expression**.**

"It's nozzing, I am handling it." Hopefully it would sound like BLU had been causing problems and he'd kept him in line. Heavy looked suspicious but didn't push the matter**.**

RED shook his head just slightly at BLU and led the way back to the room which usually held the intelligence.

"ALL RIGHT," Soldier shouted. "BOTH OF YOU SIT DOWN WITH YOUR BACKS TO THE WALL! I AM GOING TO FIND SOME CHAIRS AND SOME ROPE! AND MAYBE THE PYRO!"

"The chairs and the rope may not be necessary," said the Spy. "The Pyro, however, would be appreciated." He noted with some satisfaction the way the BLU Medic blanched at the mention of the RED Pyro. The BLU Pyro, however, perked up.

"Will not be needed," said the RED Heavy, very firmly. "No interrogation techniques. Cannot behave self, leave."

The BLU Medic visibly relaxed at that, and the Heavy gave him a smile that could be described as worrying. "Not safe yet. Still have me to deal with, leetle Doktor."

"Oh, and I suppose that you know how to conduct an interrogation?" asked the Spy, sneering only slightly.

The Heavy looked at him, considering, for several seconds. Then, "I would not ask if were you," very quietly indeed.

The BLU Medic wondered briefly if it would have been better to take his chances with the Pyro.

RED Medic hesitated for a moment, giving Heavy a slightly concerned look. "Vhat exactly are you zhinking of doing?" It wasn't as though it would matter too much if BLU Medic died; he'd just respawn. But if he was traumatized it might put a damper on them working together on projects in the future.

Soldier scowled at Heavy but trundled off without another word.

"Nothing stupid," said the Heavy, and turned his attention to the BLU Medic. "How many of team have been taken?"

"Just zhe Heafy," said the BLU Medic. "Zhey tried to take zhe Sniper, but did not succeed."

RED Medic stayed quiet, face as inscrutable as he could make it.

"Mmm. What did you find when BLU Heavy was taken?"

"I'VE GOT THE PYRO," Soldier announced loudly. "I ALSO WENT AHEAD AND GOT THOSE THINGS YOU TOLD ME NOT TO GET ANYWAYS, BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME AND BECAUSE MAYBE THEY WILL COME IN HANDY LATER!"

A black gasmask peered around the door. RED Pyro shuffled in with a sound of muffled breathing.

The BLU Medic pressed himself against the wall, eyes wide. BLU Pyro gave a little wave.

"Not good," said the Heavy.

"And why?" asked the Spy. "It's a little...incentive to get our friend here to answer truthfully."

"YOU SAID I COULD BRING THE PYRO," shouted Soldier. "SO I DID!"

"He does not need to be right here during talks!" Heavy replied, getting to his feet. "Making BLU Medic uncomfortable, it may not help!"

RED Medic shifted his weight uneasily.

"Do you really vant to face zhis on your own?" demanded the BLU Medic. "If I respawn or if I say zhat you treated me like zhis, my team vill not vant an alliance!"

The Spy lit a cigerette. "And what if we don't want one either?" he said.

"ALL OF YOU ARE BEING BABIES!" Heavy roared, his patience wearing thin. "Spy, Pyro makes doctor uncomfortable! Pyro should not be here!"

"BUT YOU SAID-!"

"SOLDIER, THAT WAS TO MAKE YOU SHUT UP!"

"Hurrrf," said RED Pyro, and slouched off.

"I still cannot see why you insist on coddling the BLUs," said the Spy. The BLU Medic glared up at him. "Neither of them is particularly endearing-you do remember the sorts of experiments this man does, do you not?"

Heavy paused. "BLU Medic did take doctor once," he ceded. "But our Medic is fine now. And this is bigger problem than BLUs."

RED Medic tried to look supremely unconcerned about the fate of the BLUs as he edged toward the door.

"Can we finish vith zhis?" said the Medic. He still looked anxious, but had relaxed visbly since the Pyro left. "I vould like to vork out terms, razzah zhan answering zhese questions."

Heavy frowned at BLU Medic. "Even if discuss terms, not sure all of REDs will agree. May not want to trust you. Not sure I trust you. Can't talk with bosses, da, but... is still hard, because we kill each other so much. Some have grudges or bad memories." He gestured to the door where RED Pyro had just left. "You know this."

RED Medic stayed close to the door, ready to dart out at a moment's notice. If anyone said anything about their collaborations...

The BLU Medic nodded. "I understand. I did not vant to trust you. But my team's Heavy has gone missing. Zhey came for zhe Sniper too, but if ve vere to fight you vithout our Heavy, it vouldn't go well." It was hard not to relax. This Heavy was so like the BLU one it was almost hard to remember that he was not to be trusted.

"...I think that is good enough for me." RED Heavy crossed his arms. "Now terms. We need terms to make both sides more ready to accept this. If we are not careful, may try stabbing each other in back when not looking. Would be very bad. But with good terms, maybe can work together as one team instead of RED and BLU. So..." He looked thoughtful. "No killing, is obvious first of them."

"Yes," said the Medic, visibly relaxing. "Also, I vould like to have my colleague's assistance with zhe corpse ve found, und be able to use each other's equipment. My centrifuge is broken, and I cannot run any assays vith it zhat vay. But zhat is getting ahead of zhings. I suppose ve could agree on vhich team members are to go to vhich base to negotiate. Zhe less volatile, zhat is."

"Da. I do not think Doctor would be upset to work with you more on things."

RED Medic flinched visibly so his glasses went crooked. "Vhat?"

"Do not pretend; I know for good long time now." Heavy waved a massive hand dismissively. "You two are small problem though. Big problem with Soldier and Demoman, and Spy, Pyro, Sniper, and Engineer. They will not want to trust each other." He shot a look of annoyance at the Spy. "It gets personal with them."

"Wait. What are you saying?" The Spy straightened up abruptly. ""Work more on things'? Does zis mean zat you two 'ave been collaborating zis whole time?"

The BLU Medic folded his arms, stubbornly. "Just because zhere is a var does not mean zhat ve ah going to let that get in zhe vay of reasearch."

"Did you 'elp 'im?" demanded the Spy of RED Medic. "Did you 'elp 'im with ze...ze tentacles?"

RED Medic looked aghast. "No! No I certainly did not help vith zhe tentacles! If I had, it vould haff taken much less time to fix it! Und besides, it vhas only... I mean to say, vhe did... get certain ideas about grafting from one anozzer, but it wasn't like I helped plan ZHAT. I didn't know he vould do it!"

RED Heavy sighed. "Spy, you have no tentacles now. Be happy." He hesitated. "How will we get teams talking with each other for starting? Some may be more ready to work together than others, but is still problem. Will need everyone together for making agreement to start."

"He started it," pointed out BLU Medic. "He put a donkey's rear on zhe Scout!"

"So I was merely a point in a squabble between you two?" said the Spy, even angrier. "That was all?"

"You were vhat vas available at zhe time! Besides, your Medic kept our Spy's head in the refrigerator for two months!"

"Zat was 'is fault for getting caught!"

"Und couldn't zhe same be said of you?"

"I STARTED it?" RED Medic exclaimed. "Oh yes, except do you remember vhen you started the vivisection vith me as your subject?"

"Ja? Vell, how about zhe first time you sent mien Heafy to respawn and abducted me to do experiments on?"

"Well it wasn't like zhat LASTED for long, did it? Und I didn't try to dissect you did I? I took some samples und let you go!"

"You broke my glasses!"

"Zhat vasn't me, AND it vhas an accident! In case you don't remember, zhe Heavy fell on zhem!"

"Because you shot him."

"BECAUSE HE BROKE MY JAW!"

"DOCTORS WILL BE QUIET NOW!" Heavy shouted, glaring at them both.

"CATFIGHT!" shouted Soldier a beat later.

RED Medic looked like he wanted to rip something vital out of the Soldier's abdomen, but he fell silent.

The BLU Medic looked somewhat embarrassed. "Ve...ve vere talking about terms, ja?" he said after a moment.

The Spy was quietly chuckling to himself.

"Da," Heavy replied, still looking quite cross. "But if doctors cannot talk without fighting, will figure it out without you."

RED Medic's expression was still angry, but there was a dose of shame there too. "It vas just a spat between colleagues," he mumbled.

"Sounded like fighting to me," Heavy replied, then turned to Spy. "You have no love of BLUs. What would make you comfortable for talking with them? Who would you trust over others?"

"I wouldn't," said the Spy. He blew a ring of smoke at the ceiling. "You make a mistake. I do not trust anyone."

"Yes, but how could ve arrange things so zhat you vould not feel as if you had to backstab us?" asked the BLU Medic.

A long pause. Then a shrug. "Only 'aving to deal with a few of you at a time would help."

"Da, but they will not trust you either. Is also problem. Maybe I will watch and also someone from BLU who is more open to idea."

"LIKE WHO?" RED Soldier asked. "ALL OF THE BLUS ARE AFRAID OF US BECAUSE WE ARE SO GOOD AT BLOWING THEM UP AND BECAUSE WE ARE WINNERS!"

"Demoman and Engineer are interested," said the Medic. "The Scout...he will get used to it. It is zhe Snipers and Spies I am most vorried about."

A snort from RED Spy. "You should be."

"Am not surprised. Our Sniper does not even like our Spy much, before he was kidnapped. Said that other Spy trapped him somehow at one point, and our Spy laughed for long time before getting help."

"Vell zhey vill haff to get over it, von't zhey? BLU Sniper can, ah, vhat is zhe term, man up und deal vith it."

"We will watch when they talk so no fighting or killing happens," Heavy replied. "Will Spies be babies about talking to Pyros?"

"They talk?" said Spy in withering tones.

"Hurrhurrf," said the Pyro. "Mmmph hurr hurr mmmph!"

"...will have BLU Engineer to translate," Heavy replied. "If Engineer and Pyro together make you uncomfortable Spy, I can be there too."

"WELL I DO NOT WANT TO TALK WITH THE BLU DEMOMAN OR THAT BLU TRAITOR SOLDIER!" barked Soldier.

"Ach, vhe can vork somezhing out for you," RED Medic sighed. "Can vhe just get on vith zhis? Zhe BLUs may start to get antsy about zhe absence of zheir teammates."

"Da, is good idea to move. Should meet on bridge. Neutral ground."

"Yes," said the BLU Medic, sounding relieved. "Should ve go back?"

"I think yes. Tell them to meet us in five minutes."


	12. Chapter 12

**Ack, sorry. Move in shenanigans have continued and probably will continue for a while. By the way, we do have the entire thing written so a delay in posting does NOT mean we're abandoning the project... **

**Oh yes, enjoy the historically inaccurate technology in this chapter. We're excusing it all (including the inaccurate shaker plate, which wasn't invented until well after 1968) with Australium. I mean, really, the Medic has a gun that heals people so our consciences aren't too exercised by the magic appearance of a PCR machine quite some time before it was invented...**

**Oh, and all things about inflatable sheep are purely fictional, save for their existence. There was originally a longer sequence of sheep jokes planned, but then we would have had to rate the fic 'M'...**

The BLU team was lined up across the bridge with no weapons. No visible ones anyway. According to terms they weren't supposed to have any at all, but Sniper hadn't felt comfortable coming to this without bringing his kukri. It had taken some doing to conceal it on his person, but he'd managed.

He looked uneasily at the Medic, the Demoman, and the Engineer, who seemed the most convinced that this was a good idea. "Wot if this is a bloody trap?" he murmured. "Wot if they're really responsible and are just playin' along so they can take us too?"

"Son, we've already been over this," Engineer said calmly. "We don't have any more evidence that they're against us than that we don't have any traitors on our side. We've gotta trust 'em or we're sunk." He hesitated. "Ah know this really comes down to y'all not wanting to trust that Spah. Truth is I don't like it any more than you do. But it's necessary."

Sniper sighed but didn't say anything else.

"Besides," said Medic, "where would zhey get three Heavies from?" He trailed off abruptly as the RED Heavy stepped out of the base onto the causeway, closely followed by the RED Medic, Spy and Demoman. The RED Pyro, trying to look inconspicuous, trotted behind them, sans flamethrower.

"I dinnae ken tha' tha wee arsonist'd be coomin'," said the Demoman, sounding a little uneasy.

"Neither did I," said the BLU Spy, and looked at the Medic, who swallowed hard.

"They're unarmed," he pointed out.

"Does it need to be armed?" said the Spy.

"Hurrugh hu mm mppphhf hrt hu hrrk murt hu urrm hhhhurble hu huuu hu mmph mu mrrr hurrr, hu mmph. Murt'ss Hurgy's hurrg." (I'm flattered that you think I can kill you with my bare hands, but I can't. That's Heavy's job.)

"What'd Pyro say?"

"That it needs to be armed."

"Hurrf!?" (It?!)

"THE RED SOLDIER IS NOT COMING?" BLU Soldier asked loudly. "OR THE SCOUT?"

"Like that's a loss," muttered the Sniper.

"What, you wanted someone to shout at?" inquired the Spy. "Or someone to shout back?"

"We are here," called the Heavy, rather unnecessarily. "Now. We need to start terms."

"Very well," said the Spy, stepping forward. "Our terms are this: no visitor to our base will be armed. We will want no more than four of you at a time, and any visitor must be escorted by a member of our own team at all times. We are willing to have you apply the same rules to any of our team on your base. Any necessary meetings will take place at alternate secure places on our respective bases; the next necessary one will be held in our intel room rather than yours. Further terms will be negotiated as circumstances warrant. Is this agreeable?"

RED Medic frowned. "Zhat seems to restrict zhings a bit... it could be difficult to get anyzhing done."

"I do not think it is too bad," Heavy stated mildly. "We can make same terms for our base. Will help with trust."

"WAIT A DAMN MINUTE, NO ONE ASKED ME ABOUT ANY OF THIS!" RED Soldier tromped out of the base, scowling.

"WELL NO ONE ASKED ME EITHER. DON'T FEEL LIKE THE LONE RANGER, CUPCAKE."

BLU Medic sighed and said to the RED Medic, "Besides, ve vill haff each other's company vhile in zhe laboratory. It vill be no issue."

"Yes, I suppose."

"ARE YOU BEING INSUBORDINATE, MAGGOT? BECAUSE I WILL CORRECT THAT IN A HEARTBEAT BY BEATING THE EVERLOVING CRAP OUT OF YOU!"

"Could y'all please shut up?" Engineer snapped. "Maybe there's a reason we tried to leave both of you behind, ever thought about that?"

"YOU TRIED TO LEAVE ME BEHIND? MAGGOT!" To the RED Soldier, "I OUTRANK ANY FILTHY RED AND DON'T YOU FORGET THAT! OR I WILL BE HAVING YOU RUN LAPS!"

"BOTH SOLDIERS WILL BE QUIET NOW!" roared the Heavy.

In an odd show of nerves, BLU Engineer flinched. The Heavy didn't seem to notice.

RED Soldier refrained from replying besides a grumble of reproach.

"Wot I really want to know," BLU Sniper said with a frown, "is if I'm ever going to be left on my own with that spook."

"Not if you vill be killing each ozzer," said the BLU Medic pointedly. He glanced at the Engineer with some curiosity.

The BLU Spy cleared his throat. "I think that our first course of action should be to examine the rooms where the abductions took place," he said. "I assume my counterpart will also be interested in this?" He met the eyes of the RED Spy, his mouth turning up.

"Aye, soonds like a plan."

"We will also want some sort of a watch on the area," said the BLU Spy. "I suppose the Snipers would do well with that."

"Vill zhey be enough?" asked the Medic.

"Snoiper you mean, since yours vanished." BLU Sniper looked very uneasy. "Oi'd rather not-"

"For heaven's sake, BLU Spy is on your team," RED Medic snapped. "And you vouldn't be vith zhem zhe whole time. You vould be keeping a vatch on zhe area, zhey vill be examining zhe area for more evidence of what may haff happened. Surely vorking in zhe proximity of our Spy is not going to cause you problems."

Sniper frowned slightly. "I'm just sayin', mate."

A hand descended on his shoulder. "I'll go with ye, laddie. We kin swap sheep jokes, aye?"

Sniper gave him a curious look but shrugged. "Roight. That actually might make me feel a little better about this. Not... not the jokes, just... yeah."

Engineer cleared his throat. "Well looks like we've got all that settled. So... so who's gonna go where first?"

"Could I get some help moving zhe corpse to his laboratory, please?" said the BLU Medic. To the RED Medic, he explained, "Zhe Scout decided it vould be funny to put gum in zhe centrifuge, und somevon," with a pointed glare at Demoman, "sat on zhe PCR."

Engineer nodded, though he still looked tense. "Yeah. I'll help y'all with that."

"Good. Now ozzervise vhe should go back to our respective bases, ja?"

"Ja," said the BLU Medic, sounding happy.

* * *

It was sometime later, and the Medics were indeed extremely happy, up to the elbows in the crisped corpse of the Heavy-look-alike. The (working) centrifuge was whirring away in a corner, and BLU Medic had brought his own dissecting tools with him so there was no squabbling over scalpels. There were no interruptions, either; the Scouts of both teams had said what everyone else was thinking, calling the whole performance "Frickin' creepy, man-hey, stop copying me, huh? Poser."

RED Medic paused as he looked up from a microscope where he'd been examining some cardiac muscle tissue. "I... er, I vould like to apologize for arguing vith you earlier," he said, a little awkwardly. He obviously wasn't used to apologizing.

"Vhy? It made zhem see zhat ve veren't completely in cahoots." The BLU Medic let out a huff of annoyance and got a small circular saw meant for trepanations. "How did your Heavy know?"

RED shook his head as he pushed the microscope away. "I really haff no idea. He is more perceptive zhan people give him credit for. Maybe he simply... figured it out. I must not haff been careful enough."

BLU stopped sawing a moment as a horrible thought struck him. "What if my Heavy knows as well?" It really didn't bear thinking about. He looked morosely down at the burned skull, shook his head, and went back to work. "Nevah mind. Zhat vill be somezhing to deal vith vhen ve get him back."

There was a sad little thump as the top of the skull parted company with the rest of it, and BLU Medic put the saw down very carefully, peering at what remained of the brain; not much. Something gleamed in there.

"Mien Gott," he said after a moment. "Zhere is a transmitter in here." He went scrabbling for a scalpel, and dug around for a few moments with exaggerated care, finaly producing something that resembled a little silver spider with a needle in the abdomen and as claws. "Mein Gott," he said again. "Get Engineer here."

* * *

The Demoman threw a pebble at one of the sparrows on the roof, startling the rest into flight. "Absolutely nothing," he said, sounding somewhat insulted. "Ye seen anythin' wit' tha wee scope a yours?"

"No, and oi'd appreciate it if yew'd cease complainin'."

A pause. Then, "Aye, I promised sheep jokes, dinnit I."

A very much longer pause. "Oi suppose," in a careful, noncommittal sort of tone.

"It's one way ta pass tha time," said the Demoman.

Both men were quite familiar with jokes of a ribald and quadrupedal sort, and the time passed pleasantly enough, until the Sniper made a joke about Scotland that went a bit too far for the Demoman's patriotic heart to countenance without a response.

"See, last time I was in Edinburgh, there was a store sellin' inflatable sheep of an unorthodox sort. An' tha was all well n' good but I read tha labels an' they said they were made in Australia."

"Oh, and whot were you doin' in a store sellin' unorthodox inflatable sheep?"

"Ye've never had an adventurous girlfriend?"

A pause.

"Not sure oi want to."

"You an' RED Medic, anyway."

Sniper actually choked with surprise. "This was RED Medic's woif?! I didn't want to know that!"

"It's no as if I've been makin' a secret o' seein' her."

"Oi thought you were just messin' with him!"

"Nah, I wouldn't do that. She's a nice lass, verra bright. I dinnae think she's e'en been livin' with him fer a bit; things got a wee bittie strained afta she found a pancreas in tha sock drawer. And then, she says, she came home an' foond him dissectin' a stiff on tha dinin' room table, an' hadn't e'en taken tha clooth off! An' it tha Sunday best, too!"

"The dinin' room table?" said Sniper, interested despite himself.

"Aye, tha dinin' room table."

"And me Dad complains about me job..." The Sniper peered through the scope. "What's that?"

* * *

The thing had been cleaned and set on a clean paper towel on one of the lab benches. BLU Medic peered at it, reluctant to do anything with it for fear of breaking it. "Vhat do you zhink it does?" he asked the RED Medic.

"Vell... it vhas in its head. I vouldn't say anyzhink before zhe Engineer arrives, but... it looks like it vould receive und transmit signals. Zhat could mean zhey already know vhe killed it, und... zhere are other possible implications." He looked at the charred flesh uneasily, and it obviously wasn't because he was squeamish.

"Y'all wanted me, doc?" BLU Engineer arrived. He looked uncharacteristically ill at ease again. The RED Heavy followed him rather closely. "And could we make this quick? I'd like to get back to mah own base soon as possible."

The BLU Medic pointed at the thing he'd taken out of the dead thing's skull. "Ve found zhat attached to our little friend's brain," he said. "Can you tell vhat it is?"

Engineer snorted at the word 'little' but took the transmitter all the same. The uncomfortable expression on his face eased into something resembling a child on Christmas morning. "Holy... this was in his head?"

"Ja. Und vhe vould like to know vhat it is."

"Well I've never seen anything exactly like it before. Look, it's like a radio transmitter, but here... that don't look like it'd put out radio waves. Wrong frequency. But it's so small, and they've STILL got room for mechanical bits, probably for locomotion. I just... why'd they need it to be able to move around if it's in his head? And... there's a lot more in this thing. Y'all can just see if you look close enough, here." He held it up so the Medics and the Heavy could see. All that RED Medic noticed was a few little metal pins sticking out from its underside like very small syringe needles.

"...und, eh, vhat are vhe looking at again?"

"What does it look like?"

"You're zhe Engineer," said BLU Medic. The Heavy leaned forward to get a better look.

"Looks like very small machine. All I know."

Suddenly noticing the Heavy's proximity, Engineer took a hasty step back. He covered it up by moving to put the transmitter down next to the corpse. "Yeah. It's, uh... it looks like it's got some sorta injection system in there. Probably to control the big guy with hormones or other drugs. But that's your field, not mine."

RED Medic suddenly looked much more interested. "Vould it be possible for you to extract vhatever is in zhere?"

"Might take me a little bit dependin' on how delicate this sucker turns out to be, but yeah. I could do it."

"Please do," said the BLU Medic. He gave the Engineer a bit of a smile. "Zhat's all we need, danke."

"Right. I'll take it then, unless there's some kinda tissue stuck down in the joints y'all want to get at. Unlikely since you've got the... yeah." Engineer shot another distracted glance at the Heavy again. "I'll just head out then."

RED Medic frowned as Engineer left. "Zhe Engineer is acting strangely..." he mused.

"Is not so strange," Heavy grunted placidly.

"Ja, ramming a vrench down somevon's esophagus is not a good vay to make friends. Vhat a suprise," said the BLU Medic, bending back to his work.

RED Medic's brows shot up. "Vhen did zhis happen?"

The Heavy chuckled darkly. "You were still in respawn, and I was mad. Is under the bridge now."

"Like zhe Engineer's fingers?" said the BLU Medic, nastily. He had all the sense of self-preservation of an inebriated lemming.

RED Medic's brows shot up. "...zhat was vhy you vere so happy zhen. You are a little terrifying at times, mein freund."

"Now he knows not to kill Doctor and RED team," Heavy said simply. "Is good for learning."

The BLU Medic gave him a glare over the tops of his spectacles. "You're not zhe one vho had to deal vith zhe resultant shell-shock. Vait. PTSD, I zhink zhey are calling it now."

"He has fingers now," Heavy replied, looking faintly irritated. "Respawn means he is fine. Should stop being baby."

"It's not alvays zhat... agh." RED Medic realize that he REALLY didn't want to get involved, so he turned back to the corpse.

"Vas not zhat easy. You should not be surprised at result." BLU went back to work as well.

Heavy scowled at BLU's back. "Everyone has had bad times in battle. I had legs blown off by Demoman and crawled back to base, twice. My doctor is always being followed by Spy, who likes to play with mice like cat. And you had time with RED Pyro not long ago, with the barn. Screaming was very loud like little girls, all of your team."

The handful of toasted brains struck the Heavy in the forehead. "I vould prefer you didn't mention that," said the BLU Medic icily.

"Then you don't mention Engineer," Heavy replied as he wiped the brains from his face, supremely unconcerned. "We all have bad memories. Engineer says nothing, you should also say nothing."

This was met with a glare. Then the BLU Medic went back to work, studiously ignoring the Heavy.

RED Medic glanced nervously at BLU Medic but didn't speak again until they'd finished for the day. The anatomical proportions matched Heavy to a tee, but they still needed to finish running the gels before they could do any genetic analysis. The Medic wiped his hands on a cloth, watching the Heavy closely.

"Ah, I vill escort him out of our base. You don't need to bozzer yourself vith it."

"Good," Heavy said shortly, and he tromped out of the room.

RED Medic turned to BLU, frowning. "Vhy did you bring all of zhat up?"

"You started it," said the BLU Medic, peering into the open skull with a little flashlight.

"I didn't know it vould bring up all zhat," RED scoffed. "Now he's going to be all moody und not want to let me exp- I mean, it vill make zhings more difficult for me."

"Oh, dear, haff I made your life _difficult_?" said the BLU Medic. "Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you..."

"I meant nozzhing of _zhat_ sort," RED shot back, uncommonly nettled. "I am speaking of RESEARCH. If zhis is zhe original- our Heavy, zhe RED von, vhe vill need him to cooperate vith us for comparisons! I zhought zhat vas obvious. And of course, I have my own goals to zhink of, my own projects, some vhich may... vell. Vhat Heavy does not know vill probably not hurt him."

"I'm expressing nozzing zhat vasn't zhere initally," said the BLU Medic. "After all, I am your clone. So vhat, do you need me to go say I'm sorry?" This with a little sneer. "I vould zhink your Heafy's sense of team duty vould extend far enough to get vone sample from him." He prodded a bit, then, "Zhere is nozzing else in zhis skull. I vill go run zhe gels. Vhere ah your pipettes? Und zhe tips?"

"You are being juvenile. Und zhere are more factors on one's behavior und preferences zhan genetics alone." RED cleaned his glasses on his shirt. "Pipettes und tips are in zhe cabinet over zhe sink."

"I suppose so. Varying hormonal levels und so on-who knows vhat I vas incubated in," said BLU. He started twiddling a pipette to the correct volume. "But zhere is a, vhat, 63% correlation between identical twins, ja?" He grinned, just trying to mess with the RED Medic. "Let us address the matter at hand, zhen," he said. "Vhy a machine to control zhe clone?"

RED gave him an annoyed look but didn't otherwise address the topic. BLU was determined to be irritating, so he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. "A machine to keep it operating to the vill of whoever is in charge. It seems simple enough."

"Vell, zhe brain vas a bit small. I don't zhink it vas just because of zhe Pyro's contribution. Vhat if it vasn't fully developed?"

"Zhat vould make sense. It vould be much easier to control a simpler brain I zhink." He hesitated. "It is disturbing zhough... Engineer said it had parts for locomotion."

"Vell, ve could look for them." BLU was busying himself with a gel and a microcentrifuge tube. "I'll be right zhere; let me get zhese into solution. Vhere is zhe shaker plate? Und zhe marked tube is zhe vone from your Heavy, ja?"

RED Medic frowned. "Vhat do you mean, zhem? I was talking about zhe machine." He peered to where BLU was pointing. "Ja. Shaker plate is in zhe same cabinet you checked earlier."

"Ah." BLU hoisted it down out of the cabinet and plugged it in, putting the containers on it and starting it up. "Done. Vhich side, right or left?"

"Left," RED replied immediately. "It really is too bad Pyro got at zhis before vhe could. If we could haff subdued it, kept it alive..." An absent smile crossed his face. "Much less charring und much more potential."

BLU Medic nodded. "Let's see vhat ve can find!"

There was a long period of especially busy silence. After a while, the BLU Medic let out a startled hiss. "Something odd," he said. "Lateral surface of zhe ulna. Is somezhing zhere on your side, too?"

RED examined the Heavy's other arm, frowning again. "Mmm... no, I don't- vait. Zhere is a little vire here- und here- all in zhe nerves... now isn't zhis interesting?"

"Somezhing odd about the nerves," said BLU. "Zhey are atrophied in vierd vays. Look at zhat." He indicated a pathetic sort of squishy thing. "I wonder..."

"Vhat do you wonder?" RED asked. He'd forgone the scalpel now and was digging around with his fingers. "If it vhas intentional? Because I'm almost certain it vhas."

"No...vhat if zhis is zhe best zhey can do? Vhat if Mann Co und TF Industries are the only companies who can do zhis? Vhat if ve're zhe only vones und zhis is zhe best anozzah company can do? Zhat's vhy zhey'd vhant us."

"...zhat... zhat vould explain..." RED paused, gaze unfocused as he thought. He was still gripping the not-Heavy's arm. "Mein Gott. You may just be right. Vhe should tell... vell who should vhe tell? I suppose I can talk vith zhe Heavy."

"Ve talk vith everyvone," said BLU. "Zhey all need to know zhis. But...zhis does leave a question." He looked up at the RED Medic. "Vhy haffen't ve been taken yet?"

RED Medic shook his head. "Perhaps zhey know zhat vhe are harder to get at, sometimes. Vhe are quite important to our teams, und our respective surgeries are not in zhe best locations for infiltration from zhe outside. Zhe Engineer's workshop vhas isolated, you know."

"Ja," said the BLU Medic. "And vhen people vere taken, ve vere around ozzahs. So if ve veren't..."

"Perhaps vhe should all keep in pairs from now on," RED said firmly.

"Ja," said BLU again. "Vell, let's finish zhis. Zhen ve can talk to zhe ozzahs."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello guys. Not sure if I'm posting this earlier than I was supposed to, but here you go anyways. :)**

They'd dragged a bunch of chairs into the BLU intel room, as well as a rickety card table that had seen better days, and still housed a colony of vexed arachnids. The mechanical contents of the corpse were spread out on it, and the Medics waited nervously for everyone to calm down so they could actually talk about what they had found.

BLU Engineer came in with the little mechanism from the not-Heavy's head, looking rather satisfied. Several others of the BLU team followed.

"I THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A WAR COUNCIL," shouted Soldier. "NOT A MEETING FOR A BUNCH OF LADIES INTERESTED IN KNITTING DOILIES OUT OF WIRE!"

"Zhis is all relevant," RED Medic snapped irritably. "Zhit down und shut up." He checked his watch. Where was the rest of his team?

"An' wha' da tha wee shinies do?" asked the BLU Demoman, leaning over to look at them. "Don't half smell of cleanin' flooid."

"You'll see," said BLU Medic. "Vhen zhe ozzahs get here."

Just then, the RED Scout came bounding into the room. He looked more panicked than he usually did. "Doc, Doc, da Heavy-he's gone!"

RED's eyes widened behind his glasses. "Vhat- are you sure?" He strode over to the door. "Vhere is zhe rest of zhe team? Are zhey all vight?"

"Dey're comin', Doc. Dey ain't too happy. You've got some sortta plan, right, Doc?"

"Ah..." Medic looked back at the BLU team. The shock and confusion in his face was too evident. "I-I... yes. Yes, vhe shall... Vhe shall proceed as planned, und... vhe vill be able to get him back." He pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose shakily. He may not have had the same sort of feelings for his Heavy that the BLU Medic had for his, but they were good friends whatever he might say. A little bubble of indignant anger rose up in his chest. If Heavy was in a bad way when they found him again...

He looked sharply back at the room. "BLU, please continue vith zhe presentation. I need to... get something." He left the room without another word.

BLU Medic nodded, understanding, and stood uncomfortably behind the table, feeling the eyes of everyone on him. There was a commotion outside the room. He straightened up, reminded himself to feel pleased that he'd found all of these things, that he'd run the gels (sitting in a special container nearby) and that his hypothesis was correct. It didn't work. He just remembered yelling at the RED Heavy, and wondered if the man had gone off to be alone somewhere, if that was how they'd gotten him. It made it, at least in part, his fault.

He didn't like that.

Sniper tilted his hat back. "All roight... you've got somethin' ta tell us about those wires, doc?"

Engineer cleared his throat. "I can start out if y'all like."

"Go ahead," said the Medic, as the first of the REDs trooped in. The Soldier, of course, was in the lead. "Vhen you get a chance," he added under his breath.

"I AM VERY UNHAPPY RIGHT NOW," Soldier announced, and he kicked a chair over.

"YOU HAD BETTER PICK THAT CHAIR BACK UP MAGGOT OR I WILL FORCE FEED IT TO YOU!" barked BLU Soldier.

"YOU ARE NOT THE BOSS OF ME YOU BLU MENACE!"

"Oi, could someone get both of 'em ta shut up?" Sniper groaned.

The BLU Medic didn't look happy about it but drew a breath, and in a voice that actually overcame the bickering bellowed, "VOULD ZHE BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP? I VILL PUT YOU IN RESPAWN AND LOCK ZHE VERDAMMT DOORS UNTIL YOU'VE CLEANED ZHE ENTIRE PLACE VITH A TOOTHBRUSH, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Both Soldiers glared at him as though they wanted to beat him senseless with the chair they'd been arguing about, but they fell into a mutinous silence.

"Right, thanks Doc." Engineer stood in front of the others with a rather fixed smile on his face. "Our Medics found somethin' in the skull of that Heavy-wannabe the Pyro- BLU Pyro, sorry- killed. Look." He started to explain different features of the machine, how it put off chemical and electrical impulses to control the not-Heavy, then how it seemed to have little legs meant for mobility, then how it had a transmitter to send and receive signals. It was a little long winded and went over the Soldiers' and Scouts' heads at the very least, but he made it as simple as he could.

"Und zhen ve found zhese," said the BLU Medic. He indicated the spread of objects on the table. "Zhey vere throughout his body. Und zhey vere associated vith places vhere his nerves vere atrophied. They were thin," he explained to the blank look the Soldier gave him. "Und ve zhink zhat zhey vere meant to transmit signals ovah zhese veak areas."

"WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US, SISTER? JUST SPIT IT OUT ALREADY AND STOP WITH THIS SCIENCEY FRILLY MUMBO-JUMBO!" shouted BLU Soldier.

"Ve zhink zhat our employers vere zhe only vones who learned how to clone. Und ve ah zhe results. Ve, gentlemen, are unique. In a vay. Und ve ah valuable to ozzahs because of zhat. Ve believe zhat zhis 'Heafy' vas a cloning attempt, a failed vone, unable to survive vithout mechanical assistance. Und his creators vhant to improve, and so vhant us. Zhat, gentlemen, is vhat zhe RED Medic und I zhink ve ah facing."

"Hold up," Sniper said, alarmed. "Oi knew there was somethin' funny going on wot with us all havin' each other's faces, but... do we know which ones are clones and which ones aren't? From wot I can tell, we've all got our own memories of families and the like. How d'you explain that?"

"Ve all haff zhe same memories as our counterparts, haff you noticed zhat?" said the BLU Medic. "RED Medic and I managed to find zhat I vas zhe clone, but ve haff not found a reliable assay to use on ozzahs. BLU Demoman?"

"Aye?"

"Vhen did you last visit your mozzah?"

"Not fer a couple a years. We havena gotten along."

"RED Demoman?"

"I spend me mornin' off with her," said RED Demoman, glaring at his counterpart.

"Und how did you lose your eye?"

"I already toold ye tha', doc. It was that bloody magician an' tha' damnfool Bominomicon."

"Boot tha's wha happened ta me!"

"You see?" said the BLU Medic. "You haff zhe same memories, except in some very specific places to make sure zhat you von't try to contact anyone else so that, say, Sniper's parents don't suddenly find zhemselves with two sons."

Sniper slouched even further back in his chair, eyes going to the floor. "Bloody hell..."

BLU Engineer gave him a sympathetic look before shrugging. "Look, y'all know that it don't make a lot of difference at the moment. We're still a team- two teams, right, and we're gonna make sure no more of us get taken. What's more, we're gonna get our boys back."

"AND HOW IS THAT? THEY VANISHED WHEN THEY TOOK HEAVY. WE WERE WATCHING BECAUSE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING LIKE ON SENTRY DUTY IN ARMY SCHOOL."

"Ve're still vorking zhat out..." started BLU Medic.

"Perhaps I could make a suggestion." BLU Spy spoke for the first time since the meeting had started. He was watching the smoke from his cigarette drift lazily up to the ceiling and seemed utterly unperturbed by the talk of clones and false memories.

"Yeah? We're all ears," said the Engineer.

"Perhaps we could use a tracking device of our own to find where our men are being taken." He took another slow drag from the cigarette. "Of course, we would need a volunteer to get themselves captured first."

"They haven't attempted eizzer of you," said BLU Medic to the Spy. "Und-"

"I WILL VOLUNTEER. BECAUSE I AM A HERO."

"YOU ARE NOT A HERO! YOU ARE RED! YOU CANNOT BE A HERO. IT SAYS SO IN MY BOOK."

"I zhink ve can count zhe Soldiers out."

"But you..." said the RED Spy, "You are an attractive target."

The BLU Medic looked down. "Ja," he said very quietly. "I haff been doing pertinent research. I am friends vith zhe Heavy. Und I am a clone."

Engineer gave him a very sharp look. "Doc, no. You're too important; heck, I'll go if it comes down to it, but if we wind up losing our Medic what's gonna happen?"

"You're zhe vone who'll be able to find me again," said the Medic. "Besides, if zhis goes on, ve're all doomed."

"I THINK THIS IS A GREAT IDEA! DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD IT IN YA, FRITZ."

"Vhat is going on here?" RED Medic re-entered the room, looking much more composed if rather grim. "Vhat is a great idea?"

Engineer shifted his weight. "Well... our doc says he's gonna take a tracking device and get hisself taken."

RED's brows rose. For a moment it looked as though he might protest, but then he hesitated. "You know... zhat is really not such a bad idea. You do know vhat you are getting into zhough, ja?"

"Ja," said BLU. "I haff your memories, remember."

The ghost of a wince crossed RED's face, but it was gone in an instance. "Very vell. If it is all vight vith you, I could implant zhe tracer today after zhe meeting. Engineer, you haff such zhings don't you?"

Engineer nodded**.**

"Ja, zhen let's do zhis." The BLU Medic squared his shoulders. "Any objections?"

There were none.

"Zhen let's go get zhis taken care of." RED looked a bit more cheerful as he put a hand on BLU Medic's shoulder. "I promise to make zhis as painless as possible, under zhe circumstances. I, er, may haff run out of nitrous oxide recently, und zhis vould be better if you vhere conscious, but it vill vork."

"I vould prefer to be conscious," said BLU. "Zhat vay, I can make sure zhat you are doing it right. Besides, zhe medigun dulls things down to a manageable level. At least, mine does." And with that, he headed out of the room.

"Is it just me, or was da Medic just badass? Dat's not right."

"Yeah, maybe for ya. Our Medic's badass all da time, ain't dat right, Demo?"

"Shoot oop."

BLU Medic eased himself onto the operating table with the awkwardness familiar to anyone making a visit to the doctor's office. He swallowed hard. "I...I suppose zhe vorkings of zhe medigun ah familiar to you? If not I can show zhem to you..." He glanced at the wires of the tracking device and swallowed again.

RED, who was rolling up his shirtsleeves, gave him a reproachful look. "I BUILT zhis Medigun. Of course I know how it vorks. But if you do not zhink I am a good doctor, you can just operate on yourself- und given vhere vhe are planning to insert zhe tracer, zhat may be very difficult."

BLU nodded a little. "Yes, I know. It's...It's not zhe operation zhat has me vorried." He eased himself back on the table, his hands clenched harder on the edges than was at all necessary.

"...oh. Vell, yes, I vould be vorried too. Hold still please." RED was getting out a cotton ball and some alcohol. "But, ah, zhere really is not much to worry about. Vhe vill get in as quickly as vhe possibly can."

BLU gave him an annoyed look, and held still. "I know," he said. "Und...und I doubt zhat zhey'll risk killing me. But a lot could happen."

RED laughed slightly as he daubed off the patch of skin where the tracer would be inserted. "As zhough zhey vould risk losing more of zheir automaton-Heavies if zhey vere only going to kill you. Live subjects are much more important zhan dead vons in zhis case I zhink."

"Ja. Vould you hurry up?" BLU contemplated the bit of skin, glumly. "I hope zhe Heavy is still alvight."

"I'm sure he is fine." RED Medic did his best to sound patient, even if he wasn't a counselor and had no idea what BLU wanted him to say. It would just be rude to tell him as much. "Und I'm about to make zhe first incision. Here..." He took the scalpel and leaned down close, tongue sticking out slightly from between his teeth as he concentrated. "Und... zhere. Now zhe second incision..."

BLU held still, gritting his teeth. "No complaints so far," he said after the second incision was made. He sounded somewhat grudging.

RED chuckled, though he didn't look up from his work. "Vhere you hoping I vas not as good at surgery as you? Vhe haff zhe same anatomy und practically zhe same experiences, do vhe not?"

"Vould have been somevhat satisfying, yes," said BLU.

"Mmm. I cannot say zhat I'm sorry to disappoint you- zhough I vill say you did get my knack for zhe job. You did very vell vith zhe Spy. It vas almost a shame to undo it all."

The BLU Medic grinned. "Danke," he said. "Und your Scout vas quite impressive. It vas a pity I didn't get more of a chance to examine him before zhe cretin ran for it."

"You haff no idea how much trouble it vas to get him to sit still, even vhen I explained to him how important zhis research could be. Getting interspecies tissue to grow togezzer would haff such wonderful implications... und yet he just kept trying to club me ovah zhe head. I succeeded in zhe end zhough." RED looked satisfied as he pulled back the skin he'd cut. "Now, for zhe tracer."

"Oh. I drugged zhe Spy. It got him to stay still long enough; vhat I vas trying to do vould haff been impossible had he been wriggling. Besides, zhe bastard had been trying to stab zhe Heafy." BLU peered down at his chest. "I zhink you vant it to be more to zhe left, ja? You ah trying to use zhe Ubercharge gears on zhe heart as a power source, right?"

"Was? Oh... ja, sorry." RED took out the scalpel again and widened the incision to the left. "But yes, zhat vhas before I vhas able to subdue him anyvays. He didn't haff much life left, und I zhought he vould be reasonable enough to realize I had him cornered. But you know vhat the Scouts are like; zhey run straight at you zhinking zhey are invincible, und you kill zhem. Zhey are almost as bad as the Pyros. Or the Heavies," he added as an afterthought, "except Heavies can get avay vis it."

BLU chuckled, winced as he jogged RED's hand. "Zhey certainly can," he said. "Zhe problem is vhen you can't."

RED grinned. "Vhelcome to my vhorld. Now hold very, VERY still unless you wish to respawn und make me start over."

BLU did as he was told. The idea of doing this all over again was not one he liked.

With one hand RED held the wires in place while with his other he grabbed a soddering iron. "Now hopefully I should be able to do zhis vithout hurting you more zhan I have already. If you feel any sudden burning pains please tell me."

"I vonder if zhis is a bit zhat zhe Engineer should help us vith," said BLU, considering.

"I made my Mediguns, didn't I? Show a bit of confidence, my counterpart."

"Ja, but it is his job. Are you done yet?"

"Almost, just keep holding STILL... und zhere." He pulled back with a smile.

"Very neat," said BLU, approvingly.

"Now zhe rest is simple enough, of course. First I'll just..." He examined the wound very carefully, then looked around the room. When his gaze fell on a plump bloodstained bird sitting on the back of a chair nearby, he smiled again. "Zhat's in order zhen."

Stepping back he turned up the power on the Medigun.

"Mien Gott, zhat isn't a zhing zhat happens regularly, is it?" said BLU, eyeing the bird askance.

"Zhat is none of your business," RED Medic replied promptly. "Just hold schtill zho you heal properly."

BLU grinned at him. "I'll get out of zhis just so I can tease you about zhat... Ah you done yet?"

RED Medic's brow furrowed, but he nodded. "Ja. You can get up und put your shirt back on. Vhe're zhrough."

"Good," said BLU, getting to his feet and reaching for his shirt. "How soon...?"

"How soon until vhat?" RED said blankly as he wiped his hands on a rag. At that moment there was a knock at the door.

"Come in Engineer! He is zhe only von who ever knocks," he added to himself.

The Engineer entered. He looked tired, and his helmet was in his hands.

BLU finished buttoning the shirt up. "Herr Conhager," he said, "has any more concrete plan been made?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I've been thinkin' about that." Engineer rubbed his forehead. "It seems to me like the best idea would be to make it look like we're expectin' an attack but just not doin' a good job of keepin' everyone safe. We could put you on watch duty, by yourself."

"Now zhat is a plan," RED mused.

"I like zhat. Do I get to shoot anyvone? Und how soon should ve do zhis?"

"Get to shoot...? Bah, you are like a three year old sometimes." RED shook his head before cleaning his tools off rather carelessly in the sink.

Engineer still looked thoughtful. "Well... they've been comin' for folks in the dead of night, y'see. I figure if we have you doin' watch at the same time that they came for the Sniper, maybe a little before, y'all might get taken fast enough."

BLU nodded. "Sounds good. Vhere is dinner? I intend to face my abduction fed, danke..."

"Zhe Pyro should be cooking tonight," RED replied. "I should actually go make sure zhe food is still edible und not burned to a crisp." He started toward the door, then turned around. "Vait, I really shouldn't leave you unattended in our base..."

"Uh, it's all right Doc. We'll be right after you. I wanted to, uh, talk with him real fast anyways."

"But... oh all right." RED gave them a slightly suspicious look before slipping out the door

"Vhat is it?" asked BLU Medic when RED had left. "Vill you need more of zhe meds, Herr?"

Engineer nodded and shifted his weight uneasily. "I've been havin' trouble gettin' to sleep again."

"Ve vill go back to zhe base, zhen," said BLU. "I haff somezhing zhat vill help-but be sure to only take zhem vhen you haff zhe time to sleep for eight to ten hours or so." He glanced at the Engineer's expression. "No dreams," he added. "I use zhem myself."

Engineer's smile looked tired but grateful. "Thanks. I mean that." Then he led the way out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the lateness! Standard disclaimer. You would think BLU Medic would have learned trying to be a hero was a bad thing by now...**

It was later. BLU Medic checked his watch and wished that he hadn't been stupid enough to volunteer for this. He was certain he could feel the tracking device in his chest, lurking only a little above the heart. "Now?" he asked the Engineer.

Engineer nodded. "Yep. Y'all ready? We can wait another night if you aren't feelin' up to it."

"No," said the Medic. "It's better zhat I get zhis done vith." He looked at the battlements and settled his coat better around his shoulders. "...Engineer?" he said after a moment, suddenly hesitant.

Engineer looked over his shoulder; he'd started to walk back. "Yeah?"

"If...vill you take care of zhe doves, if somezhing goes wrong? I know I'm being silly..." the Medic actually changed color a bit at that, ducking his head with embarrassment, "I vould just like to know zhat everyzhing is taken care of."

Engineer didn't look annoyed or like Medic was asking something silly. He just nodded. "Yeah. I'll make sure they're all right. Take care of yourself Doc; we'll getcha as soon as we can." He clapped Medic on the shoulder.

Medic managed a smile. "Danke. I vill see you in a few hours." And he went out onto the battlements, syringe gun in hand.

A few hours passed. He shivered, and stamped up and down the little walkway, cursing under his breath at the coldness of the mountain night, now only thinking of the comfort of his own bed. It didn't look as if they'd turn up tonight. He wondered if their secret lair would be warmer.

A glance at the sky showed the moon to be vanishing behind the mountains. Sometime around three in the morning. The Medic tucked his hands into his armpits and glared at the clouds his breath formed. Hell, the inside of his nose hurt.

There was a very slight noise behind Medic.

Medic turned. "Who is zhat?" His hand tightened on the syringe gun.

There was nothing there. But something stirred just at his periphery. Something huge.

Medic whirled and shot at it, on general principles. It didn't stop. It kept moving closer as the syringes landed in its flesh, blocking out the lights behind it.

Something clamped down hard on Medic's shoulder, and an enormous hand with a rag smelling of chloroform clamped over his nose and mouth. He fought as best he could, but it was impossible; his attacker was much larger and stronger than he, and soon the gun clattered out of his hand.

The world tilted, darkened, and Medic slid to the floor.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Doctor."

The voice was a silken sneer, like the purr of a contented cat. The Medic stirred and found he couldn't move. The lights were too bright to make anything out. His glasses were folded neatly on another table nearby.

"If zhe Scout has eaten anyzhing deadly, send him to respawn. I do not care." He knew where he was; he knew he wasn't in the base, but he didn't want to start out with a groan and that was the only alternative his sleep-mazed brain would give him.

"Wake up, please. I would like to talk with you." The voice had a trace of impatience now. "You don't want me to wake you up."

"You have only yourself to blame," said the Medic. "You vere zhe vone who drugged me, after all."

"Mmm. I suppose that means it's my responsibility to remedy that." A dark blur moved over him, and a needle pierced Medic's arm.

"I usually find time more effective vith my patients," Medic snapped.

"We're a little short on time at the moment, so you'll have to make do with a stimulant instead." The Head backed away again. "Are you aware of what you are?"

"Vhat kind of scientist do you zhink I am? Of course! I figured it out vithin zhe first veek." Well, technically, that had been RED through experimenting on him, but it didn't matter.

"Good. Then I won't have to go through the troublesome conversations I had with the others. Do you know which others of your teammates are clones? Please consider your answer carefully before saying something something foolish."

"No. Ve only have guesses und ve didn't do much vork on zhat. I only knew for certain vhen you took zhem." The Medic glared in the general direction of the voice.

"Ho hum. That is a pity; perhaps I should have taken the original medic instead. He might have had more insight into the situation." The careful stress laid on 'original' made it plain that this was an insult.

"Zhere's no difference," said the Medic. "Vhere ah zhe ozzahs, zhen?"

"I don't see why that should concern you. Most of them aren't even on your-" the Head cut himself short as a high pitched beep went through the air. "What..."

The shadow left the side of the table for a moment. Then it returned, quickly. The man began patting the Medic down, growling furiously to himself under his breath.

"Vhat is it zhis time?" asked the Medic, rather dryly. "I zhink zhe civilized expectation is zhat you buy me dinner before taking such liberties."

This earned him a hard blow across the face. The Head didn't speak again as he kept searching. Finally he ripped BLU Medic's shirt open and froze. "How did you get that scar?" he asked sharply.

The Medic spat blood. "You expect me to remember?" he said.

"I could find out the hard way, right now," the Head growled, voice dangerously low. "How. Did you get. That scar."

The hard way would take longer. It would give the Engineer longer, which meant he'd have a chance of getting out of here. He dug around till he came up with an appropriate response he'd learned from the Scout. Carefully, enunciating each word, he said, "Fuck off."

It didn't have quite the right ring to it-he supposed you need that irritating American accent to do that-but the change of expression was so satisfying that he decided he needed to use that phrase more often.

"Fine. Fine, this might actually be fun." The Head stepped away and started shouting for something. People in white began to bustle around quickly. One moved to fasten a mask over Medic's nose and mouth, but the man beckoned them away. "No, I don't think we'll be needing that this time, so long as he's held down well enough."

Having the RED Medic slice him open to implant the thing had been bad enough, with the Medigun. There was no Medigun here. They weren't even his memories, but they rose to strangle him. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hands clenching.

The bustling continued for a moment. Someone made sure that his shirt was well out of the way, while other someones checked his bindings or covered him with a surgical sheet with a hole in it where the scar could be seen or swabbed the patch carefully.

"Now let's see if we can't find out what's REALLY in your chest," the Head hissed. Silver flashed as he lowered the scalpel.

Several long, agonizing moments later, the Head pulled back with a frown. "There is a tracking device behind his ribcage," he hissed. "We may have to anesthetize him for its removal, unless..." He glowered down at the incision for a moment, clearly thinking.

_I hope it's necessary._ The Medic's hands relaxed a little, and he lay there and gasped, little whimpering gasps, the cold sweat running down his face. He said nothing.

Instead of applying anesthetic, the Head pulled something small and metallic out of his pocket. He pushed it between the ribs and touched the device lightly with it.

There was a fizzling noise, and the light on the tracker went out.

Did this mean that it was over? He couldn't think straight. He knew it meant something bad, that there was something worse coming, but he couldn't think of it. He only wanted them to stop hurting him. It was over. He held that thought close, clung to it.

"Sew him up then leave him to me. I have a few more words to share before you start work."

A white garbed figure strode forward with a needle and thread.

It hurt. Everything hurt. But it would be over. It had to be over. He was too tired to scream. His throat hurt and his mouth tasted of blood. Someone was making pathetic little noises. Had to be him. He hadn't even been aware of it; didn't care enough to stop.

And before too long, it was over. The white garbed someone pulled away, while the Head drew forward again.

"Do you see now why your obstinacy is pointless?" he murmured. One hand gripped Medic's chin and forced him to look up into his face. "We get what we want either way here. And even if your friends did manage to get our coordinates... well. That just saves us a trip back to your respective bases."

_You won't win._ He didn't have the courage to say it. He looked up at the blurry figure above him, and couldn't manage a glare.

The Head glowered down at him for a moment then pulled back slightly. Without another word he stripped what remained of Medic's gloves and tie from him, then turned to the white garbed people again. "When you're done with him, take him to cell 2A," he said, "and yes I know it's occupied."

When you're done with him?

It wasn't over. After all this, it wasn't over. He cringed, seeing two sets of menacing figures, heard in memory the officer. _Spion. Verräter. Wo sind sie?_

"Ich weiß nicht," he said, aloud._ I don't know._

It hadn't saved him then. It didn't save him now. The door opened and shut, and the coated figures closed in.

* * *

They had to carry him to the cell. A door opened. Someone shoved him through it.

He managed to land on his shoulder and roll so the incisions didn't open again, and then didn't move. He didn't think that it'd help anything.

"DOCTOR!" An enormous blurry shadow stooped down over him. "What did baby men do to you?"

"Zhey got the transmitter," said the Medic. It was the Heavy. Oddly, he felt safer already. "Zhey found it und disabled it."

The blur shifted its weight slightly, and Medic might have caught a glimpse of red. "Transmitter? What is this transmitter you talk about doctor?"

"Ve vanted to find you. Zhere vas a transmitter implanted in me, so zhey could follow, but zhat man broke it."

"Are you hurt?" The Heavy frowned. "You do not look so good."

"It vas in my chest cavity. Zhey saw zhe anesthetic as unnecessary."

There was a low noise of anger, something like a growl. "I am going to kill that man into little tiny pieces." The Heavy lifted Medic onto the cell's solitary cot. "You be still and quiet, doktor. Should feel better after that, I think."

"Danke," whispered the Medic. Without really noticing it, he'd clamped his hands around the Heavy, clinging tightly.

The Heavy frowned. "You are acting strange, doctor. Did they hit you in the head?" He pried the Medic's hands from around his neck.

"No Medigun," said Medic, and shivered. He was sure he could feel the incision seeping into the light bandage. "Und zhat man..." He wanted to sleep. He wanted nothing more.

"It was very bad, da? Why are you not angry and yelling?" The Heavy frowned slightly.

"Too tired..." And scared. But he couldn't say that. Not to the Heavy. The Heavy wouldn't think well of him.

The Heavy tilted his head. "...are you RED Medic?" he asked.

"Nein," said Medic, very quietly.

"Mmm." It was silent for a moment. "Still kill baby man into little pieces."

"Danke," said Medic, and dropped off to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**Standard disclaimers!**

Pyro hummed a happy little song, checking the flamethrower and occasionally adjusting position so as to avoid being bounced out of the truck bed. It was a crowded truck bed, all things considered, but Pyro was happy; RED Pyro was there too, and it was wonderful to have someone to have muffled conversations about fire with.

Besides, they were going on an adventure.

Engineer looked rather grim as he drove the truck on down the road. They'd been able to get the coordinates no problem, but he was very concerned about the fact that the tracer had gone dead after a few hours. That seemed to indicate that it had been found, which would indicate that they were expected.

"DAMMIT ENGIE, ARE WE THERE YET?" came a shout from the truck bed.

"Engineer told you before," came RED Medic's voice through gritted teeth. "Vhe get zhere VHEN VHE GET ZHERE! Now please keep your idiotic zhoughts to yourself-!"

"Hush up," Engineer cut across in a hiss. "We'll be there soon, and y'all are gonna be heard."

"Aye, lisin' ta him," said RED Demoman. He was still, uncharacteristically, stone-cold sober. And glaring at BLU Soldier.

"I AM NOT GOING TO BE TAUGHT WHO TO LISTEN TO BY A SCOTTISH DRUNK," Soldier huffed in a quieter voice that still sounded something like a shout.

Engineer sighed. "We shoulda made Soldier stay behind," he murmured, not for the first time.

"Egh, ja. But it is better zhat vhe brought him along zhan zhat he should haff followed us und given us avay."

BLU Demoman looked back at the Sniper's truck, which was following them, almost obscured in the cloud of dust. "Aye, boot in this lorrie?"

"Hrr hurrrrf. Murrf harrrf muff huumphurmt huuuurngs hu murrfy hurburt." (Oh well, we have more important things to worry about.)

"Hurrth hur hu mmmruh hurrrh hurrf? Hu hurrt hur heert muuuf mmmphh muph!" (What are you talking about? We get to set things on fire!)

"HURRF!" (Fire!)

"Hurrf." (Fire.)

The Pyros high-fived.

"Well do y'all really think puttin' him in an enclosed place with two Spahs is a good idea? Hush up, we're here now."

The trucks came to a halt. People piled out. Including two very annoyed Spies and one slightly red-faced BLU Sniper.

"My suit shall never be the same," said RED Spy, dusting himself off and adjusting his tie. "The smell..."

"You 'ave said it exactly," said the BLU Spy.

"It's not that bad, wankas," Sniper grumbled. "From the way you blokes've been talkin', anyone would think it's completely bung up. And for the record it does NOT smell like urine."

Medic slid out of the front seat as Engineer parked the truck. "All vight, now." He looked over the others, then back to the razor-wire topped fence they'd come up against. There was no building to be seen behind it, but Engineer seemed to think the place was underground. "Vhat is our plan of action?"

"PLANS? PLANS ARE FOR LITTLE GIRLS THAT HAVE ALL DAY TO SIT AROUND AND THINK OF PLANS! WE DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THAT NOW!"

"We go in first," said the RED Spy. "We let the rest of you in, and then cause whatever chaos we can with the sappers. The rest is up to you."

"There is the fence to be contended with," said BLU Spy, with a nasty little smirk. "And then, 'ow are we to get inside?"

RED Spy gave him a dirty look.

"HURR HUFF!" said BLU Pyro. (Burn it!)

"We'll need a little more detail than that," Engineer told the Pyro, "but yeah."

"Vhell, a good deal of it depends on if zhey know vhe are here or not. Vhe haff means of getting over or zhrough zhe fence, just not stealthily. Unless someone zhought to bright wire cutters, und zhe fence is not electrified."

Engineer frowned at it, took a step back, and nodded. "Looks like it is from what Ah can see."

The BLU Spy held up a finger, then slid the Electro-Sapper to the base of the fence. He gave it a firm nudge with his foot and leapt back, letting the Sapper slide the rest of the way. Well, as much as it could on dirt.

"Well let's bloody well hope this works," Sniper grumbled.

There was a snapping noise, and sparks briefly showed around the fence. Then everything went dark again.

"...vell? How are vhe supposed to know it vorked?"

"I KNOW HOW!" Soldier ran forward and grabbed the fence. Nothing happened.

"Looks like there's a use for you after all," Engineer said under his breath.

"That simplifies things," said the RED Spy. "Does anyone have wirecutters?"

BLU Demoman produced his Eyelander. RED Demoman snorted. "Ye'll ruin tha blade, laddie," he said. "A mooment." He went back to the van and pulled out a second. "This'll do it. I brooght an extra."

The blade was rather larger than the Eyelander. "Aye, I dinnae like this one mooch," he said. "Noon a tha perks o' tha pigsticker, an' bloody huge ta boot. But there's oon thing she'll do, an' tha's this." And with that, he raised the sword and struck the fence.

Engineer nodded slowly. "All right. Looks like we've got our way in. Would y'all Spahs like to go in ahead of us to make sure the way's clear?"

"Better them than me," Sniper muttered, the slights against his van/home obviously not forgotten.

"Certainly," said RED, and cloaked. BLU made a face at Sniper and followed suit.

"Murf mmph?" said Pyro. (Now what?)

Medic frowned. "Vait, is zhere some vay you can signal us once zhe way is clear? Should vhe follow at a safe distance perhaps, or...?"

"I DON'T USUALLY LIKE COMPLIMENTING REDS OR FOREIGNERS, BUT FRITZ HAS A POINT!"

"Just follow," said an empty patch of air.


	16. Chapter 16

**A big thanks to everyone who is following, reviewing or otherwise enjoying this! Sorry for lateness! Standard disclaimer.**

BLU Medic woke up. He regretted it, of course-given recent events, it was impossible not to-but tried to sit up anyway. "Did anyzhing happen vhile I vas out?" He tried to sound as crisp as he could.

RED Heavy was leaning against the wall, frowning. "One baby man took blood sample from both of us. I let him so maybe could see where he keeps keys. No good."

"Oh." The Medic looked down at his arm. There was a new bandage under the torn sleeve. "So...have you found anything further? About who zhese people are?"

The Heavy shook his head. "There are noises through walls. Others are probably not far away from where we are being kept. Keep taking blood and talking about clones, but that is most of it." He shrugged. "Maybe they are making army."

"Zhen ve vere right," said BLU Medic. "Ve thought it might haff somezhing to do vith zhat." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I vonder if zhere is a vay to get zhe sadistic bastard-" that word from Soldier, and it was a satisfying word to say that somehow described the man perfectly, "to say anyzhing about zhis..."

"There are probably many ways," Heavy replied. "Problem comes with us being in cell, and him being out there. Is hard to get information when you are prisoner."

"Und zhey haff probably been vatching," said BLU, disappointed. "So ve cannot fake a fight. Unless..."

Heavy turned to Medic ponderously. "What is it you are thinking, doctor?" He looked politely interested, even if Medic was BLU.

"No, I do not zhink zhey vill believe it," said BLU, slumping a bit. "I vas going to say, vhat if I insulted somezhing zhat made you angry enough to attack me anyvay but I don't zhink zhey vill zhink I am zhat stupid."

"...da, is true. But they may think I am that stupid. Maybe I am misunderstanding what you said, and then we fight. I try to hurt you, and they run here to stop."

The Medic raised his eyebrows, impressed. "A good plan." He sat, thinking a moment. "So. If you are zhe original, I vould zhink you vould be better at restraining your temper zhan mien Heavy..."

Heavy pushed off the wall, a frown crossing his face. "IF I am original? I think you are being stupid; I AM original, teeny man, with good temper!" He kept his voice raised just enough that whoever was in the hall might here.

"Maybe you are zhe original, but I do not have zhe empirical data to support zhat hypothesis! Und good temper? Don't make me laugh! Do you know how high our bills for medication became aftah zhey hired you?"

Heavy's hands balled into fists. "I HAVE NO PATIENCE FOR BLU BABIES!" he shouted. "I WAS HIRED TO KILL YOU INTO LITTLE PIECES, AND I DO GOOD JOB! WHY SHOULD I TRY HAVING GOOD TEMPER WITH BLUS, LITTLE DOCTOR MAN?"

"UND VHY SHOULD I JUST LET YOU GET AVAY VITH IT? YOU ARE JUST A COPY. AN INFERIOR COPY!" BLU panted for breath-the injury kept him from saying much more.

"LET ME?" The Heavy laughed harshly as he took a step toward the cot. "YOU ARE HERE WITHOUT OTHER HEAVY, LITTLE MAN! THERE IS NO ONE TO HIDE BEHIND HERE! I CAN KILL YOU AND KILL YOU AND KILL YOU!" He brought a hand down hard on the cot's frame. "AND NO ONE IS HERE TO STOP ME!" He paused with a slight worried frown, then added in an undertone, "That was not too much, da?"

The Medic had flinched back, and at the last words bared his teeth at the Heavy. "Ja? Zhen vho killed you in zhe sewer yesterday? I haff sent you to Respawn more times zhan zhe ozzah vay around!" He shook his head slightly in response.

"KILL ASSISTS ARE NOT SAME AS KILLS!"

The door swung open before Heavy could continue. Two guards stood on either side of the Head, who was staring at them icily.

"Is there a problem?" he asked.

The Medic stared at him, pressed up against the wall as far as he could get from the Heavy, who was being impressively menacing. "Ja," he said after a moment.

"...care to elaborate?"

"Little stupid man does not know when to shut big stupid mouth," Heavy grunted in reply, crossing his arms. "That is all."

"I see," said the Head. "Well. No use losing one of the specimens. Bring the Medic with us-we'll store him elsewhere."

"Danke," said the Medic, trying to sound subdued.

Heavy frowned but didn't say anything. Hopefully this would work; otherwise he'd be alone again for nothing.

The guards each took one of the Medic's arms and escorted him into the hall. The Head shut the door behind them with a snap and the click of a lock.

"Follow me," he said tersely and began walking; the guards followed.

The Medic found that he was rather less recovered from the 'surgery' than he'd thought. After a moment of internal debate about whether it would be better to play up his infirm state or not, his pride won and he staggered along with as straight a spine as he could manage between the guards.

The alarms went off, all at once, an incredible cacophony. The Medic started, looked around, and grinned when he realized what had happened.

The Head pulled up short. "Intruders?" he said. "Well... it's to be expected, isn't it?" He pulled a gun and a handset from his pocket. "Keep hold of the clone. We can use him."

"I'm useless, I assure you," said the Medic, deadpan.

"Nonsense, I'm sure you'll make an excellent hostage." The Head began barking orders into the handset; he motioned for the guards to follow him as he continued down the hall.

The Medic said a really foul word under his breath, and then there was a snarl of feedback over the intercom system and sparks poured from every speaker. The lights flickered. Some distance away, there was an explosion, and the corridor plunged into darkness.

Medic felt something was expected of him. "Right on time," was what he settled on, just before the red glow of the emergency lights came up.

The boss didn't seem to take kindly to this. He spun around and backhanded Medic across the face. "Not another word," he hissed.

Medic laughed. It was the sort of laugh that made his teammates run for cover before he tried out the new formula on them. "You zhought you had me," he said, and looked up, still grinning, a little runnel of blood going down his chin. "Vell. Now who is in trouble? Not as much fun vhen your victims can fight back, ja?" He raised his voice, hearing the sounds of running feet ahead. "Ve are ovah heah!"

"Do you honestly think I found and disabled the tracking device without preparing in case we had company?" the man snarled, but he did look concerned.

"No," said Medic to the man. "But zhey prepared too." There was an ever so slight whiff of chloroform coming from one of his guards.

"IF YOU MAGGOTS KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL STAND DOWN!" came the Soldier's bark. He charged around the corner, apparently alone, teeth bared furiously.

"Yo, Doc, ya alright?"

An arrow nicked the Head's ear. BLU Sniper had opted to bring the Huntsman. The Head drew back with a hiss. "I don't have time for this," he growled and pushed a button on his watch.

Fifteen guards darted into the corridor from the doors lining the hallway. Two fell almost at once, one to a shovel in the face courtesy of Soldier and the other due to shotgun-related injuries from Engineer.

RED Medic got out his syringe gun and made to dart through a gap in the guards. "Hold on, vhe'll get you out of zhis!" he shouted to BLU Medic.

One of the Scouts raced by, Holy Mackerel raised aloft. BLU Medic blinked. "Vhy did you let zhe boy bring a fish to a gunfight?" he yelled over the commotion.

"Meeedic!" The RED Demoman had gotten crowded into a corner by a group of guards, slashing about with his sword.

"Aaagh," RED said irritably, and he spun toward the Demoman. In an instant he'd put away the syringe gun and pulled out the medigun. If he could just keep him healed up for the moment...

The head began to pull down the hall with his two guards, BLU Medic in tow.

BLU Medic struggled, then realized he was going to go flat on his face if he tried anything more than just walking at the moment.

RED Medic turned to see BLU Medic being towed down the hall. "Hold on, vhe vill- ach, get OFF!" With a hastily spat out curse, he jammed his saw into a guard's gut.


	17. Chapter 17

**Enjoy! Also, standard disclaimer. **

The Head broke into a sprint, checking over his shoulder as he went. Every now and then someone would try to detach from the crowd to follow, but they were immediately cut off by a guard and forced to fight.

"Quickly," the Head hissed, throwing open a door and gesturing for the guards to go inside. They shuffled through, gripping the Medic tightly.

It was rather a bare office. There was a little dissection kit on the table, the scalpel and forceps still out. There were a pair of butterfly wings, just the upper ones, neatly placed on a piece of folded paper to the side. A touch of color in the wastebasket caught the Medic's eye; on closer inspection, there were many wings in there, jumbled in among the wadded newspaper and paper coffee cups.

"This way," said the Head, unlocking a door. The Medic stared at the little collection of butterfly wings in the trash, horrified, before the guards dragged him after the Head and into a dark passageway.

Quite abruptly, one of the guards gave a little sigh and collapsed. The other one shimmered.

"What-?" the Head began, looking for the first time utterly taken aback, but he cut off immediately. A revolver was aimed at his face in that split second it took to talk, and a familiar red-masked face smirked at him.

"You look surprised to see me."

Medic blinked. "Oh," he said. "RED Spy. Zhat vas unexpected. Chloroform him, you idiot-I smelt it on you."

"Call me an idiot again and you may not make it out of here alive," Spy said in an almost bored tone, but he did as the Medic instructed. With one last bewildered glower at the pair of them, the Head slumped to the ground.

The Spy brushed off his suit. "Back to the fray then?"

The Medic grinned, searching the body of one of the guards. He found a revolver, stood up, cocking it. "Yes, indeed," he said, then glanced down. "Oh. Ve should take him vith us. Information." He uncocked the gun, bent down, and tried to haul the unconscious body over one shoulder. He stopped in mid gesture. "You vill have to take him," he said. "Zhe sutures vill not stand up to the strain. Now. Ve should be going."

Spy rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Indeed. Just let me go first please; it wouldn't do for you to tromp around and reveal our presence before it is necessary." He lifted the Head. "If anyone asks, we found him collapsed and are removing him out of concern for his wellbeing."

He sidled to the door and peered through, the guard disguise slipping back into place. "On second thought... no, we have him with us, it wouldn't work. Just be quiet and stay out of view as much as you can."

"Tromp around," sniffed Medic. "Indeed. I managed to sneak up on you, do remember."

"And yet you still can't manage to keep that mouth of abnormally crooked teeth of yours shut for any length of time," Spy hissed back. He gave him one last disdainful look before peering stealthily around the next corner. "Mmm... they are all quite distracted. If you can get past them, I can direct you to the hole in the fence."

"Vhat about zhe Heavies?" Medic gave him a concerned look.

Just then, there was a crashing splintering noise, and an enormous, "WHERE IS TEAM, LEETLE MAN?" from down the hallway.

"...ah. We do need to get the rest of the prisoners out don't we?" Spy made a slight face. "Might as well do that now while the guards are distracted. Who do we need to get loose?" He glanced down the hall in the direction of the bellow. "Besides the BLU Heavy?"

"Zhe Sniper, zhe Engineer, und zhe ozzah Heavy," said Medic.

"DOKTOR? IS YOU?" The BLU Heavy Weapons Guy came around the corner, RED Engineer behind him. "Where is team?"

"I'm sure you'll find them if you follow the sound of people screaming in pain," Spy said.

Engineer frowned. "...y'all are a Spah, right?"

"Naturally. And we still need to locate the RED Sniper, so if you would kindly tell me the most likely location of his cell we may be able to get out of this place soon."

"Follow me," said BLU Heavy, neatly relieving Spy of his burden. "Is where we were kept. Think rest should be here."

Medic followed, glancing over his shoulder. "Herr Engineer. Are you vell?"

Engineer seemed to be limping a bit as he followed them and was holding his right arm stiffly. "Well enough for now," he said grimly. "I wasn't exactly cooperative enough fer your unconscious buddy's liking."

"Let's discuss this later," Spy hissed. He followed the Heavy closely. "Where would be his most likely location out of all these doors? Did you hear anything when you were taken to your own?"

"Do not know what you mean," said Heavy. "Only know, we were here." He stopped walking.

"Ve'll get you to zhe ozzah Medic as soon as ve can," said Medic, as they turned down the corridor.

It was a long corridor, with twenty-one doors.

"Merde... well we don't know how long this will take. Someone secure the prisoner's limbs in case the chloroform doesn't last as long as it is supposed to. Leave this part to me." It was clear that Spy thought they would make a mess of things if they got involved. Sauntering forward, he started to tap at doors.

Engineer slouched against a wall as soon as they weren't moving, breathing a little heavily. He gave Heavy a sidelong glance. "Thanks for gettin' me outta there, by the way."

"You stay here," said Medic. "Sit down. Spy. Do you zhink you could find zhe ozzahs?"

Engineer frowned but did as Medic said anyways. They were all on the same team more or less, for now.

"Yes, I do," Spy said curtly. He stared very hard at a door, then looked at the others in the hall. "Mmm... this one has a faint odor of urine. It's likely him. Perhaps we can force him to take a shower once we're out of this cement hole in the ground." He pulled an electronic key card from his pocket and slid it into the slot in the door. "Sniper? Is that-"

Something red crashed out of the door, and before Spy could finish the statement Sniper had clubbed him over the head with his bedpan.

"Zhey vasted a bedpan on you?" said Medic. He peered at it. "...I vonder if ve can contact zhe supplier. Zhis is much better zhan zhe usual equimpent that ve get..."

"Cannot take it with, Doktor," said the BLU Heavy, with an expression that declared he was used to this sort of thing.

Sniper jerked as though he were going to hit someone else with the pan, a slightly crazed look in his eye.

"WE ARE NOT THE ENEMY, YOU IDIOT!" Spy staggered to his feet in time to grab Sniper's arm. His eye was swelling, and he spat what might have been a tooth onto the ground.

Sniper twisted in a vain attempt to dislodge his grip. "Let go-a me, yah bleedin-!"

"Son, put that thing down before y'all hurt someone for real," Engineer told him mildly. "That's your own team's Spah you just clubbed over the head."

Sniper stopped and blinked at the Engineer, the crazed look slipping into confusion. "Truckie? You... wot's going on?"

Spy took the opportunity to wrench the pan out of his hands. "Disgusting bushman, this isn't even empty!"

Heavy snickered. "We check others now," he said, and walked up to the next, tapped it a few times, listening intently. "Anyone have gun? Can open without key."

"Yes," Spy said irritably. His disguise fizzled out of existence as he pulled a revolver from his pocket and handed it over.

Sniper frowned when he saw that the man he'd attacked was, indeed, the RED Spy. "Well... well wot I still don't understand is why we're throwin' in our lot with BLU all of a sudden."

Heavy put the gun to the lock, fired twice, handed it back to the Spy. He then gave the door a good kick, got his fingers around the corners, and simply lifted the entire thing off its hinges. "Is why, leetle man," he said with a grin, and then the RED Heavy charged him and knocked him off his feet.

"Oh come on, not y'all too." Engineer pushed himself up with a wince. "Heavy, it's us! We're all workin' together to get y'all out remember?"

"Oh," said RED Heavy, pulling the punch. It still left a dent in the floor. "Not guards. I see. Was worried after they took Doktor."

"Took...Doktor?" said BLU Heavy, looking sidelong at the other Heavy, then the Medic. "Explain."

And Medic turned the color of a beetroot and stammered, "Zhey shoved me in vith him aftah...vhen I arrived. Ja." He pushed his spectacles up his nose and gave them all a deeply embarrassed expression. BLU Heavy was glaring at RED Heavy.

"Will work with you. For now. After, you are dead."

"Just try, baby man."

"Please save your jealous spats for AFTER we are out of this hornet's nest," Spy told them.

"Yeah... yeah," Sniper said, still trying to grasp what was going on. It looked as though he hadn't slept in a while, and behind his cracked glasses his eyes were bloodshot. "Let's... wait, didja say there were more of you wot come in here to save us?"

"Ja," said BLU Medic, looking pleased. "I had a tracking device implanted before zhey took me. Zhe rest of our teams followed me."

BLU Heavy got to his feet. "Why are REDs here? With you?"

The BLU Medic looked at the RED Spy, who declined to comment. BLU Medic took a breath. "No contact from our superiors," he said. "Und people vere going missing. Ve decided zhat ve needed zhe help."

BLU Heavy snorted. "As if we need help from baby REDs!"

"Ve did," said the Medic flatly, and met BLU Heavy's eyes. "You vill see. Ve did." Then, to Spy, "Zhat should be all. Shall ve check zhe ozzah cells anyvay?"

"If you feel it is necessary. I think it more prudent to get everyone out of this place before the captive wakes up."

"Well I don't like the thought-a someone gettin' left stuck in one of these here cells, personally." Engineer looked down the wall of doors. "What do y'all think?"

"We check," said RED Heavy.

It was fruitless. All the other cells were empty, save for a few insects of unknown taxonomy. And the boss was beginning to wake up-Medic clubbed him over the head when he noticed.

"We go now?" said BLU Heavy, hopefully-the sounds of fighting were louder.

Spy nodded and motioned for the others to follow. Sniper noticed Engineer's limp and pulled his arm over his shoulder, grumbling "Oi'd still like to know wot the bloody hell's going on."

"I'll explain it all to you later," Engineer told him, then lowered his voice. "Nice hit on the Spah, by the way."

Spy shot them both an irritated glance. "We're almost there. I would suggest that anyone too unwell or unstable to fight should stay here."

Sniper scowled at him but hung back with Engineer, still supporting him.

They got less than ten paces down the corridor before a snarling mob of fighting men (and Pyros) came around the corner. Medic said something ungentlemanly and shot two of the guards; RED Heavy waded right in, and people flew.

The Spy vanished from sight an instant later, though from the cries of surprise and anguish near the back of the mob he'd taken out his knife.

"WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED, AT LEAST FROM THIS SIDE!" Soldier came barrelling down the hall, a very harried looking RED Medic running behind him.

"I DO NOT EVEN KNOW IF ZHE CHARGE VILL VORK ON YOU!" he cried.

RED Heavy looked mildly put out at this usurping of his Medic by a BLU Soldier, but didn't say anything.

One of the Guards tackled BLU Medic, trying to knock him out. BLU Medic kneed him, bashed his head into the wall and while he was reeling from the impact, neatly snapped his neck. He glanced over his shoulder, whirled, shot another that was going for BLU Heavy.

"AAAAAAAGH!" came Soldier's eloquent battle cry as he threw himself into the fray. Apparently he'd run out of ammo because he was smacking everyone within reach with his shovel. RED Medic winced and popped the charge; there was no way that idiot was going to survive otherwise.

Several guards yelped and jumped backward as the Soldier glowed bright red.

"Vould you look at zhat, it vorks," said BLU Medic. "I hope he doesn't run out of guards before he reaches us..."

RED Medic seemed to have forgotten his earlier trepidation. A grin spread across his eerily glowing face, and he practically crowed with laughter as the guards flew in all directions. Soldier didn't change his tactics in the slightest, running straight through at anyone within reach and smacking them as hard as he could with his shovel.

"Und zhere goes zhe last of zhem. Can ve leave?" BLU Medic bellowed this last part as the ubercharge began to fizzle.

"AHAHAHA- WAS?" RED Medic pulled up short just as the Uber went out. He blinked, looking a little disoriented. "I mean... ah. Zhey are all gone, very good. Let's, ah, proceed to zhe ozzers zhen. Zhey are just down zhe hall."

"We are ready," came the Spy's voice. He, the Engineer, and the Sniper were walking (hobbling in Engie's case) toward the rest of the group.

RED frowned at the Engineer. "You're hurt? Here, hold schtill." He pointed the medigun at him. Sniper wiped his forehead with his arm.

"Anyone got a gun or a knoife? I-I don't feel all that good about..." He cut himself off, then shook his head. "On second thought just get us outta here."

"As though I'd trust you with a weapon just now," Spy muttered. Medic noticed the state of his face and healed him as well.

The Scouts and the Demomen and the BLU Sniper turned up a few moments later. RED Soldier was a little slower, closely followed by both Pyros and the BLU Engineer. The Pyros looked thrilled, and were carrying an entire filing cabinet between them.

"Hrrrf huss hurr mpph," said BLU Pyro, bouncing a little on their toes. (These are their notes.)

RED Medic's brows rose. "Vill vhe be able to get zhat into zhe truck?"

"Yeah, there's room," BLU Engineer said with an easy smile. "Besides, y'all have a hostage now don't ya?"

"Looks like we do," RED Engineer agreed. "Can we keep moving though? I'd like to get outta this place as soon as possible."

"Good," said BLU Medic. "Let's go."

They made their way back to the surface. BLU Spy turned up somewhere along the way, carrying a shrouded package and going hon hon hon occasionally.

The BLU Medic climbed in the back of the Sniper's van with the BLU Heavy. There wasn't enough room anywhere else for them, and it was incredibly uncomfortable sharing the tiny dining alcove with the Heavy. But the privacy was welcome, their only company the unconscious Head in the bunk overhead, securely bound.

The Medic had no idea what to say.

Heavy was the first to break the silence. "You are not looking well, Doktor. Other Heavy hurt you?"

Medic shook his head and looked down at his bare hands. It was too dark outside to pretend interest in the scenery.

"Is all right. Baby men are dead." He leaned forward and patted Medic's hand, pulled back his own as if embarrassed afterward. The Medic glanced up at him. Heavy looked away.

"You were angry at zhe ozzah Heavy because of me," said Medic after a while. His heart hammered in his throat; this was stupid. Maybe, just maybe, he could plead the drugs, the exhaustion, the blood loss as an excuse, should he be rejected.

"Da. After what he is doing to the Engineer, do not want rest of team near him. Especially you. Do not want to see you hurt, Doktor."

Medic extended a hand, cautiously. "I do not vish to see you hurt, eizher," he said. The Heavy looked at his hand on the table and hesitated.

The Medic's next words died in his throat. He looked away. He'd said nothing actionable yet, he might still be safe-

And a large warm hand covered his.

"When there, alone, am thinking I might die. Am thinking I am fool for being coward, not saying anything earlier to you. If Doktor is saying what I am thinking he is, answer is yes."

Medic put his other hand over the Heavy's and smiled up at the other man. There was swearing from the truck's cabin, and a sudden swerve, but neither of them took any notice.

The newly conscious Head rolled his eyes at the sentimental chatter beneath him. No matter; the fools would soon have far more important things to worry about.

_**End of Act One**_

_****_**We hope you've enjoyed this so far! No, this isn't the end of the story, just the season finale. The Doublecross Incident will return on Friday the 5th, so the authors can get a few more last minute edits in on the opening of Act Two and also dissect a shark. We wish we were joking...**

**No actually we don't because dissecting sharks is awesome. **

**See you then! And thank you!**


	18. Chapter 18

**And Act II begins. Hi again everyone! Glad to see you. **

It was dark when they arrived. The teams dispersed to their separate bases to lick their wounds and wonder what to do next.

Sniper, who usually had no problem with small spaces and sitting still for long periods of time, kept moving from room to room feeling restless. Egh... he needed fresh air and a view of the sky. And maybe some coffee after a good night's sleep.

Shaking his head, he headed out to the battlements. He couldn't let the capture get to him. You didn't see Engineer or the Heavies wigging out; neither Spy would let him hear the end of it if they thought... yeah. Fresh air.

He stepped onto the battlements, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Immediately he started to relax. The air was a little too moist to remind him of home, but it was a start.

In the gloom, there was a little click and a sudden flare of light. "I've had a very bad day," snarled a voice, "So no funny business or I'll make it worse for you."

Sniper didn't even process the words after the click and the light. He spun around, hat flying off, and sent a punch at the unknown figure's face. Why hadn't he picked up his weapons before stepping out?!

A wall of air hit him and slammed him into the wall. "I've calibrated this so it'll work even off the base," said the voice, squeaking a bit with rage. "I don't care if you're a civilian-this will hurt you." The ugly muzzle of a flamethrower was thrust forward, the wielder still thoroughly in shadow. "Now, I need some answers. Firstly, who the-" The pilot light illuminated Sniper's face.

"Oh," said the voice, now very embarrassed. "Ah. Mr. Mundy. I do apologize."

Sniper grimaced as his head made contact with the wall. He could hardly see straight, his legs were about to give out, and his nerves were completely shot. But even through all of that, he noticed something recognizable about the voice.

"...Miss Pauling?" He blinked at her, eyes crossed slightly. "Wot... blimey, we've been lookin' for you and the announcer lady, you know!" Sniper pushed himself upright. "Wot happened?"

Miss Pauling reached into the bag at her side and pulled out a flashlight, which she turned on. It took care of the shadows, but she still wasn't terribly recognizable. She'd pulled one of the Spy's balaclavas over her head. A really big sword hung across her back; the RED Medic's unused syringe gun dangled from her hip, and she clutched the flamethrower with surprising competence in hugely gloved hands. Jarringly, she still wore her usual short purple dress.

"Are the others here?" she demanded. "When I found the base empty, I thought they'd gotten here too."

"Well a-course they're here," Sniper replied, still eyeing the flamethrower uncertainly. "They had ta run off to save us wot got captured though, didn't they? Couldja put that thing down? I don't feel loike respawning tonight."

Miss Pauling lowered the flamethrower. "Right," she said, all brusque confidence. "I need to see both teams. Right now. Where do you hold meetings?"

"We've been meetin' in different places from what all I've heard. Oi haven't been 'round for the last few though." He rubbed the back of his head, looking dazed. "RED'll be happy ta see you I'm sure. Maybe we can rouse everyone; they'll all be sleepin' right now."

"Do," she said. "This is important."

* * *

The door shuddered on its hinges, and Soldier's voice blared something on the other side.

"Murghlf?" said the BLU Medic, lifting his head. His pillow chuckled and patted him on the back, very carefully.

"Leetle Doktor sounds like Pyro," he said. Medic smiled at him, then sat up as the Soldier banged on the door again.

"Zhey can't find us like zhis!" he said, rolled off the bed and went looking for his shirt. Heavy sat up and ran a hand over his face.

"Already heard you!" he bellowed at the closed door. "Go away and leave in peace!"

"IT IS AN IMPORTANT MEETING! YOU WILL BE THERE!" said the door, and then stopped shaking.

"Vhat time is it?" said Medic, and there was a thump and a muffled curse, and Heavy turned on the light.

"After three in morning."

"Zhis has better be good," was the response.

* * *

The teams were gathered in RED's intel room. No one looked very awake.

"Vhat is it, Herr Sniper?" demanded BLU Medic. He looked at RED Medic. "I told you zhat you should haff given him zhe anti-anxiety medication!"

"He insisted everyzhing vhas fine," RED Medic snapped back, very cranky at being woken up. "Do you really zhink force-feeding him pills vould be a good idea right now?"

"Oi don't need any anti-anxiety meds," Sniper replied. His appearance and restlessness seemed to state otherwise, but that wasn't the point anyways. He ran a shaky hand through his hair again. "It's Pauling- you lot know the assistant to the boss-lady wot's always screamin'-"

"Yeah, we know," Engineer said patiently. "Go on."

"Sh-she's here. Met her up on the battlements, and she right near killed me. Said she needs ta talk wif us."

BLU Medic's eyebrows went up, and he looked over his shoulder at the BLU Heavy. The two of them were a bit more ruffled than was usual (even at this hour) and standing a bit closer than would be strictly normal, even for friends. "I see."

"That's a bit of an understatement," said Miss Pauling, striding into the room. She'd taken the gloves and balaclava and sword off, at least, but the syringe gun still bumped at her hip. "We're in trouble."

Sniper jumped, just slightly. "Bloody hell woman, couldn't ya warn us before just runnin' in like that?"

"Sniper, please sit down before you hurt yourself," RED Medic told him sternly. He turned to Miss Pauling. "Vhat exactly has been happening- und vhy do you have zhat?" His eyes traveled to the syringe gun. "Zhat is mine."

"You don't use it," said Miss Pauling crisply.

BLU snickered a little.

"So. You say more trouble than what we have already?"

Miss Pauling nodded. "TF Industries. RED and BLU. Mann Co. All of them-your employers, your suppliers-something's gone wrong and I'm not sure what. I think they've bribed the police. Whoever it is."

RED Medic scowled at her but didn't press the subject of his gun. This wasn't the time. "Exactly how widespread is zhis phenomenon zhen?"

Engineer frowned. "And how much do y'all know, Miss Pauling?"

Miss Pauling took a breath, and her facade slipped a little. She was scared. But it was back in place in a moment. "All I know is I came back to the offices from an...an outside assignment, and saw the company helicopter leave and someone who looked exactly like me lead a group of heavily armed men into the building. I couldn't contact any of the others, not Bidwell or Hale or either of the companies. And there were suspicious looking sorts asking people if they'd seen anyone with a big purple pickup truck."

"Well it sounds like we might know more about this business than y'all do." Engineer hesitated, then smiled slightly. "Or leastways we will soon. See, the docs and our Spah brought in a little visitor."

"A prisoner to be more precise. Someone who has been orchestrating our kidnappings." The RED Spy lit his cigarette, looking supremely unconcerned.

"Kidnappings?" Miss Pauling looked at Sniper, then the others. "This was mentioned earlier. What happened?"

RED Medic hesitated before looking to Engineer, Sniper, and the Heavies. "Vell... zhere vere clones. You are familiar with zhe concept of clones I am sure." He kept his tone mild and not accusatory. "Anyvays, vhe schtill haff zhe remains of zhe von vhe dissected in zhe surgery if you are interested. It is like zhe Heavy- BLU Heavy vhas zhe first taken- but zhey had little in zhe way of brains, vith mechanical apparatus to control zhem und keep track of zhere movements. Aftervards zhey took RED Engineer, und zhey tried to take BLU Sniper without success. Zhat is how vhe obtained our specimen. Zhen zhey managed to take RED Sniper und RED Heavy, zho vhe set up a trap involving zhe ozzer Medic und a tracking device. As you can see, vhe vere successful in reclaiming our captured comrades."

"Oh," said Miss Pauling, working through the combination of accent and technicalities in her mind again to make sure she hadn't missed an important bit. "I see. And you took a prisoner?"

"We took the man who had apparently orchestrated the attacks," Spy replied. "I doubt he was the mastermind, but he could be a good source of information nonetheless."

"The doc keeps on about it bein' something to do with clones," Sniper muttered from his chair. "Not that oi heard anything about it while I was holed up in there."

"You found out about the clones." Miss Pauling looked from the RED Medic to the BLU Medic. "You're lucky everything else is in such uproar now. Where's this guest? I need a word with him."

The way she said 'a word with', it sounded like 'to beat the everloving shit out of'.

"We put little man in sewer. Soldier and other Spy guard him now," RED Heavy told her.

"Vhe, ah, could take you down to see him IF you promise not to kill him just yet," RED Medic said quickly. "I'm sure you understand zhat vhe need him."

"Though personally ah wouldn't be all too sorry to see him made very uncomfortable," RED Engineer put in. Even if he'd been fully healed by the medi-gun, the memory of his most recent injuries were still fresh on his mind.

Miss Pauling looked very considering. "Would you say the difficulties if he were to escape would outweigh the benefits of putting him into the respawn system, gentlemen? It would make the interrogation much easier."

A slow smile crossed RED Medic's face. "I zhink zhis is a vonderful idea. I haff been vanting to... I mean, yes, if you require any assistance..."

Miss Pauling smiled back. "It does depend on how easily he can be removed from the system after he ceases to be useful. Mr. Conhager?"

The slightest of smiles crossed BLU Engineer's face. "It shouldn't be all that hard, ma'am. I'll see what I can do."

"Excellent," said Miss Pauling. "Tell me when you've finished with the respawn. I would like to see the prisoner immediately."

"Ah'll work fast." He got up and immediately left the room.

Sniper sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Wot now?"

"We try to find out somewhat more of what's going on," said Miss Pauling. "I doubt we will be seeing any of our employers for a while; either something has happened to them or they are attending to it separately. Attempted contact will only make it more likely that the enemy will get more information."

"Roight. Roight." Sniper nodded vaguely. "Is... is there any way I could just get some sleep? Oi mean... I didn't want ta say anything, but I could use it."

"Go to bed," said the BLU Medic, sounding a bit vexed. He was still too wired from earlier events to really feel tired, though bed was still a pleasant prospect. "Now, about zhe prisoner..."

"Do we need things to do with prisoner, for respawn?" RED Heavy asked. "Or is it all just mechanical things for Engineers to do?"

RED Medic's brow furrowed slightly. "If zho I am sure vhe could assist you."

Sniper, meanwhile, left gratefully.


	19. Chapter 19

**Late update is late because of the Avengers. And scooters. Don't ask, you don't want to know. **

The Spy leaned against the railing, glaring at the man tied to a chair in the corner. He had his revolver out. There was a small heap of cigarette butts at his feet.

RED Soldier stood at attention against the other wall, back straight, rocket launcher at his side. You couldn't see his eyes, but he seemed to be glowering at the prisoner.

Of the people in the room, the Head seemed the most happy to be there. He was smirking, leaned back in the chair as much as the ropes would allow. That expression changed somewhat when he saw who was coming down the sewer toward him.

"At least something here makes sense," said Miss Pauling, as soon as she'd gotten a good look at him. "We know that break-in four months ago wasn't random."

"Merely our first move," said the Head.

"Oh, I doubt that," said Miss Pauling. "It was just the first one your owners made that included someone stupid enough to get his face on the security tapes. Now, Mister, care to tell me anything more before I become impatient?"

Soldier looked at Miss Pauling. "OWNERS? WHAT DO YOU MEAN OWNERS, SISTER?"

The Head looked less smug than he had, but he shut his mouth and didn't say anything.

"Are you sure?" Miss Pauling's sweet smile went right to scary without passing through unsettling or faintly creepy first. She pulled out a nail file from somewhere about her person and began to fiddle with it, very deliberately. It was rather high class, made out of some goldish colored metal with a bit of illegible writing on the back.

The Head squirmed a little, and the corner of his mouth twitched out of nerves. "What do you plan to do with that?"

Miss Pauling began to file her nails. "Whyever would you ask?" she said, her voice quite normal.

He hesitated, then cleared his throat. "I really don't know what sort of information you're asking for," he replied, sounding more uncertain by the moment. "Perhaps if you were a bit more definite we could, ah, discuss things."

"For one thing, who are you working for, and exactly what are you trying to do?" Miss Pauling met his eyes. "Don't lie. We'll have to start over if you do."

"They, er, didn't tell me everything," the Head said slowly. "I know that the program is called Plan Omega."

"And what does this 'Plan Omega' plan to do?" Miss Pauling finished with the left hand and turned the nail file over a few times.

"Ah... they... are working on, er, cloning technology," he said vaguely.

"That's not enough," said Miss Pauling, and jammed the nail file into the web of skin between his forefinger and thumb. "Go on."

The Head let out a hiss of pain, eyes going to the nail file. His teeth were gritted. "They... they needed your company's technology because ours isn't as advanced. Your, ah, Medics will know that; they've dissected one."

"We already know that. What is their design on TF Industries and Mann Co? And perhaps you'd like to explain to me why there are very unpleasant characters asking after my whereabouts." Miss Pauling pulled the nail file out, and stepped down to rinse it in the sewer, looked at her right hand, considering. "Now. Fewer hesitations, too. I'm not very patient, and I'm working unpaid overtime for this."

"I don't KNOW," he growled. "I am not the person in charge; those would be my, ah, superiors. They didn't tell me in case a situation like this arose."

"I WANT THE TRUTH MISTER," Soldier shouted rather suddenly. "MISS PAULING SAID THEY WERE YOUR OWNERS AND YOU'RE SAYING THEY'RE YOUR SUPERIORS, NOW WHICH OF THOSE IS RIGHT AND WHICH IS BALONEY?!"

"Soldier?" said Miss Pauling, very evenly, "Shut up."

Soldier looked like he was about to bark back at her, but then he caught himself and looked at the ground like a guilty child. "Fine."

As Soldier subsided into bristling silence, Miss Pauling turned her attention back to the man. "I think you're lying," she said. "Why? Because I think you're quite a clever boy. You probably don't like not knowing things. You probably went snooping, and you probably put two and two together and figured out what was going on, and figured out how to get out of it if it all went south. You didn't want to spend all of your life working for your creators, did you?"

The Head said nothing. Miss Pauling's eyebrows went up.

"Now, there are a number of other things I need to attend to, so maybe you think you can simply outlast me. I wouldn't recommend it; I'd have to ask someone else to step in, and I do believe BLU Medic in particular has the regrettably petty habit of really holding onto a grudge. In the meantime... Spy, might I borrow your lighter?"

There was a distinct pause. The Head looked up at her, quite obviously sweating.

"Go on," she said, sweetly.

His eyes flicked from her to the Spy's lighter. Finally he seemed to deflate just slightly.

"You do remember," he said slowly, "the Poopy Joe fiasco, don't you?"

Miss Pauling's eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"It was an enlightening experience for our superiors, to say the least. They realized just how much sway your people held on a global scale. Needless to say, it terrified them." He shifted his weight uncomfortably. "They, ah, decided to act."

"I see," said Miss Pauling. "And they decided to kidnap our employees. Go on."

"That isn't all they did," the man replied. He seemed to be gaining momentum now that he'd started. "They... they are wanting to replace people. Some of the higher-ups."

"Hence the clones," said Miss Pauling. "How much research did they get done on the mercenaries, then?"

"A bit. They got the most done on the ones they abducted first; they may even have enough to improve their previous clones."

"Enough to make a move?"

He hesitated. "I would say so, yes."

"When?"

The Head looked uneasy. "Er... soon. Within two weeks I would say."

"You can be more specific than that, surely," said Miss Pauling.

The Head looked close to panicky now. "Look, they didn't leave that information out where I could find it," he snapped. "Within two weeks is what I know; I'm sorry, but I can't help you any more!"

"Really?" said Miss Pauling.

"Do I have any reason to lie to you right now?"

Miss Pauling let out a little sigh, annoyed, and produced a revolver from her bag, which she cocked and leveled at the man's head. She raised an eyebrow at him.

He tensed, eying the revolver. "I-I don't know!" he replied. "They... wait, let me think for a minute!" His eyes flitted around the room. "Someone... someone said something about moving the prisoners before IT happened in a few days, maybe that's what they were talking about... it was, erm... two days from now I think?"

"Still useless," said Miss Pauling, and pulled the trigger. Once the echoes had faded, she said, "Spy, go up and tell the Medics that he'll be arriving in the Respawn room in about thirty seconds. He's all theirs."

"With pleasure," the Spy replied with a thin smile. And with that, he stalked past the Soldier and out of the room.

He smiled at the Medics, who were standing outside respawn a little ways away. "He is all yours, gentlemen. Thirty seconds from the time you heard the gunshot."

"About now," said BLU, and stepped into the room.

RED followed him, looking grim.

The Head lay sprawled on his back on the floor, looking dazed and clammy. He ran a hand over his face as he stared up at respawn. "Wh-what... where is she?"

The BLU Medic leveled the syringe gun at him. "I do not think zhat should be your foremost vorry," he said.

The Head froze, eyes flicking from one Medic to the next. RED was taking off his labcoat and gloves.

"What are you doing?"

RED chuckled. "Oh, you don't expect me to dirty up my labcoat vith your blood, do you?"

The Head shuddered.

"Oh, don't give us zhat," said BLU, disgusted. "You vere happy enough to torture me vhen you had me helpless. Come on, Doctor. Ve should get him to more...civilized surroundings."

"Zhe laboratory, zhen?" RED produced a length of rope seemingly from nowhere.

"Ja," said BLU. He smiled viciously. "You know, zhis von't kill you. It'll just make you vish it did." He paused, looked at the syringe gun. "Vell, if I shot you enough times, it vould kill you..."

The Head looked between RED and BLU, and he realized that resistance wasn't going to help him here. He swallowed and sat up slowly, raising his hands over his head.

"Very good, vhe are on zhe same page!" RED moved forward and swiftly bound the man's hands behind his back and nodded to his counterpart.

"Move," said BLU, and prodded the Head in the small of the back with the gun. "Ve're going to have fun."

* * *

"All of them," said Miss Pauling. "Every last one you can contact by telephone-I want them contacted."

"Ah-" started BLU Spy.

"I know you've got some of your own. Don't try the clone excuse."

RED Spy cleared his throat. "Miss Pauling," he said, "How deep-seated do you think our loyalty to you or TF Industries is?"

Miss Pauling just looked at him. RED Spy lit a cigarette, offered the case to BLU, who accepted, still watching Miss Pauling.

"After that little incident with the director, we're somewhat more suspicious of you and the Administrator's intentions," RED went on. "You see, I wouldn't be surprised if Monsieur Mundy would be delighted to take out the people who threatened his parents. The Heavy is less than happy about the pictures of him and his gun." He leaned forward. "We're not friends, Miss Pauling. For the most part, we were out of luck and looking for jobs and took these ones because the pay was good. We're beginning to wonder about that last part-you cloned us, threatened our families, and now, you've dragged us into the middle of a fight with the local government, one that has a distressingly long arm in the present day. What's to say that we don't have a significant interest in seeing you fall?"

"Surely you're not so foolish," said Miss Pauling. Her eyes flicked to the bag in the chair next to her.

"You are only one woman," the BLU Spy pointed out. "You have nothing to support you. Aside from the nail file."

"Half of you are clones," said Miss Pauling. "The government would take you to pieces to see how you worked."

"Suppose they offer us amnesty."

Miss Pauling swallowed at that. "We pay well-" she started.

"I don't think that's quite enough to convince Monsieur Mundy," said RED Spy. He met Miss Pauling's eyes. "Or me."

"What do you want?" said Miss Pauling. "Because I can make no promises as to what will happen when this is over."

"We would like to know why this is in our best interests," said BLU Spy.

Miss Pauling hesitated.

"Ah," said RED Spy. "I see. Well. We will give you one of the trucks, and some supplies, but otherwise-"

He stopped. Miss Pauling was looking at him with an annoyed, almost pitying expression.

A moment of silence.

"Do you know," said Miss Pauling, "how thorough the destruction would be were RED and BLU to have an actual war? You gentlemen know that it's more like a game, the way we have it set up. No one dies. More importantly, no civilians die. Most importantly, the resources you're fighting over are usable at the end of the day."

The Spies looked at each other.

"You remember what it was like after the last war," said Miss Pauling.

The silence expanded, developed its own personality. It wasn't a nice one.

"Would you want to see that happen because two morons couldn't sort out the inheritance? Or because they got nervous about the activities of the local government? We won't just fall, gentlemen. It'll take a while. And it's quite likely it'll kill a lot of people and destroy a lot of things. The current system works. And it's employing you, gentlemen, to make sure it continues doing so."

She had them. She knew she had them. She gave them a sunny smile. "I'm glad we dealt with that. Now. Your contacts. I want them contacted."

Which was why, two hours later, the RED Spy was heard saying, "Oui, ma petite chou-fleur, 'e 'as been eating 'is vegetables. 'Ow do I know? Ma belle, I 'ave asked my colleague 'o works with him-Oui, ze BLU Spy. Ma chaton, I do 'ave a question for you-eet is very important..."

In another room, Miss Pauling: "No. I am not interested in buying a bridge in Egypt, thank you. I am contacting you on urgent business, and there is a profit for you in it..."

And in another room, BLU Spy sat very still, only his pen moving as he scribbled, his eyes wide, not saying anything, phone clamped between shoulder and ear.

"I understand," he said after a while. "You have been very helpful."


	20. Chapter 20

**Our sincere apologies to anyone who lives in Arizona. The younger author was getting snarky about the immigration laws there. Her common sense has been stolen by the shark fumes (formaldehyde yay!)**

It was about nine in the morning. The teams were assembled in the BLU intel room. There was a lot of coffee being passed around, a nervous pair of Spies, a nervous Miss Pauling, and a notable lack of Medics.

"No, it's MINE," came RED's voice from down the hall. "I came up vith zhe procedure! Vhy can't you just wait for zhe next captive you take? It isn't all zhat hard, as I showed you!"

"Zhe last von vas yours!" snapped BLU Medic. "Und I vas zhe von who fixed it, you idiot. How often do ve haff captives? Zhe Announcer vill make you give him back! Besides, I ran zhe gels on it, vile you just had fun."

"Give zhis von back? Vhy vould she do zhat? At any rate zhe last von is no LONGER mine as you know. And it looks like it could be quite soon zhat vhe haff more to play vith, times being vhat zhey are."

A grumble, and then, "Vhen I did it, he survived a whole half-hour. You only managed fifteen minutes zhe first time."

Miss Pauling cleared her throat pointedly.

There was a pause. "Oh, are you, ah, vaiting for us?" RED asked from the hall.

"Nah, we just thought we'd all have a cuppa while we watched the sunrise together," Sniper said mildly. He seemed to have recovered immensely from the night before.

The BLU Spy cleared his throat. "Now that we're all here," he said, "We've found out their plan." He paused for dramatic effect.

RED Medic finally entered the room. He was in his shirtsleeves, covered in blood, and looked like he'd been up all night, but he also looked less irritable than he had in a long time despite the heated argument from a few moments before. BLU Medic, in similar disorder and similar good spirits, followed him.

"Vell are you going to tell us sometime today, or should vhe come back tomorrow morning for zhe rest?"

The Spy glared at them, settled his tie better, and said, "Apparently, the 'Poopy Joe incident'-" and the quotation marks clicked into place like the fingers of a squeamish housewife around a dead rat- "and the resultant Senate hearing has concerned the government of the United States to the point that they desire to get rid of TF Industries for good." He waited for the gasps to die down, waited for Soldier to recover from the shock (the RED Soldier actually fainted, had to be slapped awake by one of the Medics), cleared his throat with great satisfaction at the general commotion, and continued, "They are called Plan Omega. They plan to have TF Industries make the first move; namely, holding the government hostage. They will claim to have made a bomb from the Australium that vanished during the Poopy Joe incident and then demand heavy subsidies and complete jurisdiction over the southwestern states."

"Have ya seen Arizona?" said the Scout, in a stage whisper. "It'd be a fuckin' improvement-OUCH!"

"The government will respond accordingly. They seem confident that they'll be able to win in a contest of main force."

"Vell naturally. Zhey may just evacuate whoever zhey can from zhe area und bomb us," RED Medic said with a shrug.

"Too much valuable technology," said Miss Pauling. "They plan to do a ground assault. But we don't know when. More importantly, though, we need to have a plan to stop this."

RED Medic looked expectantly to Miss Pauling, along with RED Sniper and Heavy. BLU Engineer coughed slightly. "So, y'all got any ideas ma'am?"

Miss Pauling looked around the room. "That was what I was looking for help with," she admitted.

Many of the faces in the room darkened a bit. But BLU Soldier stood up. "ALL RIGHT MEN, YOU HEARD HER! WE NEED TO START THINKING ABOUT THE ENEMY, LIKE THE ENEMY, AND PLANNING OUT HOW TO BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF THE ENEMY! WE NEED TACTICS, INVENTORIES OF OUR SUPPLIES, AND EVERY MOTHER'S SON OF YOU TO PULL HIS WEIGHT! NOW WHICH DIRECTION DO YOU THINK THESE MAGGOTS WILL COME FROM?"

RED Medic just blinked at him in bemusement. "...was?"

"Yeah, but aren't we technically da bad guys?" BLU Scout looked confused. "I mean, we knocked out some real creeps earlia but if Teufort wants ta take over half tha country, dat ain't right."

"It's not actually TF Industries," said Miss Pauling, looking as if she already had a headache. "It's clones."

"Clones," said BLU Scout. "Would someone explain ta me what tha fuck that is?"

RED Scout snorted. "Moron," he said, and leaned over, whispered something to BLU Scout.

"Your brudda? I don't frickin' think so, chucklenuts! That's gross!"

"To make it absolutely clear," said RED Spy, sneering a bit at the BLU Scout, "they've put in puppets who will do what they say instead of the originals."

"So that'd mean dat there's two a Miss Paulin'?" said RED Scout, looking hopeful.

"There will be two of the Administrator, too," Miss Pauling pointed out, rather frigidly.

"Oh," said RED Scout, visibly deflating.

"So we actually are da good guys?" said BLU Scout.

"Yes, Scout," said BLU Spy. "We are the good guys. Can we get on with it?"

"STOP YAMMERING LIKE A BUNCH OF OLD LADIES AND ANSWER MY QUESTION: WHERE ARE THESE PEOPLE COMING FROM?! YOU KNOW YOUR DIRECTIONS LADIES, DON'T YOU?"

"Ach, stop SHOUTING, some of us haff headaches!" RED rubbed his temples (hands still very bloody) and thought for a moment. "Zhis is zhe United States government. Zhey haff more men und weaponry at zheir disposal zhan vhe know. It is likely zhey vill surround us und close in from all sides, isn't it?"

"Makes sense to me," RED Engineer replied. "Problem is how to hold 'em off for any length of time. I mean, there's only so much y'all can do in a defensive position if your enemy can keep throwin' men at you, and they don't have a time-limit. It's likely we'll run outta supplies if we don't figure out somethin' for our provisions beforehand."

"I'd prefer to get at it even before they start the war," said Miss Pauling.

BLU Engineer grinned at these words. "Now we're talkin'."

"IN THAT CASE WE NEED TO FIND THEIR BASE OF OPERATIONS! SNIPER, CAN YOU DRIVE US TO THE WHITE HOUSE?"

"No I bloody well can't!" snapped both Snipers at the same time.

"We get to TF Industries before they can make the announcement," RED Spy clarified.

"Y'all know the way, right?" RED Engineer asked Pauling. RED Heavy was already getting up.

Pauling gave him a rather annoyed look. "Of course."

"Zhen vhe should make a tentative plan und pack up as quickly as possible." RED Medic stated. He wiped his hands absently on his waistcoat.

"Obviously," one of the Spies said under his breath.

"Indeed," said Miss Pauling. She pushed her glasses up her nose. "You'll want your heaviest weaponry, gentlemen. Anything that will reduce injuries or keep you alive longer, take it; there's no Respawn where we're going."

"Ja. I vill get anyzhing vhe might need for medical purposes; if one of zhe medi-guns breaks, it vould be very bad to not be prepared." RED Medic strode briskly from the room, and slowly the others filtered out after him.

"Quick-fix or zhe usual?" asked BLU Medic following him. "I think I know what you'll prefer, but what would best supplement it?"

"I don't only like zhe Kritzkrieg for zhe... zhe health boost," RED replied. "Agh... vhe should bring all of zhem if zhere is room, but having invulnerability at your disposal could be very useful should zhings turn nasty."

The Engineers walked off ahead, heads together and talking very quickly. It sounded like they were planning to mobilize several sentries at once.

"Ja," said BLU. "I do like zhe speed of zhe quick-fix, zhough. It might be very helpful-but we'll need invulnerability. I vonder...could ve try combining some zhings?"

One of the Pyros had cornered the BLU Demoman and was making excited noises at him. After a while, the Pyro decided that there was little chance of actually communicating with him this way, and dragged him off in the general direction of the furnace room, the other Pyro trailing behind.

RED Medic gave him a curious look. "Vhat are you suggesting?"

"Reviring zhe Quick-Fix's invincibility generators," said BLU. "It burned out aftah zhe first time, but if ve managed to fix it..."

"Oh yes, zhat COULD be most... hmm. Do you suppose zhere is any vay to lessen zhe amount of power taken by zhe charge?"

"No, but maybe ve could vork on reinforcing it so zhat it could deal vith the quantity ov current..."

"Vhe should get started zhen. Your surgery or mine?"

"Either vorks. If it is yours, I vill need to get some zhings."

"I vill come help you zhen." RED smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder as they started walking. "Zhis promises to be a good deal of fun, ja? If vhe come out of it alive."

"Ja!" BLU grinned back. "Now, about zhe Head..."


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry, all, looks like we'll be updating this every two or three days instead of daily. The shark has insinuated itself quite throughly into the younger author's life. On the plus side, we open the body cavity tomorrow...**

BLU Sniper crossed the barren ground to where his van was parked, looking a bit put out. He rubbed a thumb against the blade of his Tribalman's Shiv as he went.

The RED Spy decloaked next to him. "Hello," he said, smirking.

Sniper jumped. "Bloody spook, what do ya want?" He scowled at the Spy. It was a good thing he'd caught himself; under normal circumstances he'd have sunk his knife into him immediately.

"I thought that we should have a talk before we went haring off to save the world. Namely, making sure that I won't find you trying to take a swipe at me with that overgrown knife of yours in the middle of things."

Sniper frowned. "We're on the same soide now, ain't we?" he replied in a flat voice. "The only way you'll find me takin' a swipe at ya is if your knoife is aimin' for my back."

"The only way that'll happen is if you have the temerity to dump a bottle of piss on me again."

"You were backstabbin' me a long time before I started chucking my piss at ya. Just stay out of my way and we'll be all roight."

"Right." Spy adjusted his tie. "That said, Miss Pauling wants to see you."

Sniper's brows rose. "Wot? Did she say why?"

"No," said RED Spy, with a smile. "We shouldn't keep her waiting, though."

"Roight... well I'll see ya then, or not." Sniper gave him one last suspicious look before heading back to find Pauling.

* * *

The Engineers didn't talk too much as they worked. Occasionally they'd correct each other about some point on a blueprint, or ask a question, or comment politely on what the other was modifying, but that was it. They had three level three sentries in front of them in various levels of being disassembled, along with an old car and what looked like the tread from a tank. Pieces kept coming off only to be reassembled into something... else. Something large, and armored, and obviously meant to be mobile.

And they just kept working.

* * *

Sniper took off his hat when he got to where Miss Pauling was standing, back where they'd been talking. He wasn't sure why he did it. Politeness maybe?"

"You wanted to talk with me?"

"Yes," said Miss Pauling. RED Sniper and BLU Spy, glaring at each other, entered the room as well. "Here's a diagram of the building. I want you two to indicate the places you might set up if you were defending it."

BLU Sniper looked to the others warily before looking over the map. "Well... it looks loike this wall's got a few noice windows ta look out of. They're a little wide though, and you probably won't need ta worry about these ones near the ground so much. They'll have those blocked off entirely so people can't climb in through 'em, or make it so no one going in that way can access the rest o' tha building."

RED Sniper wandered over and looked at the map as well. Miss Pauling handed both of them pens. "Mark them, if you please."

BLU glanced to RED before carefully marking off the areas around the outside he'd have made for first. Then after a little hesitation, he started marking areas further inside as well, near hallways that were most likely high-traffic and a larger, auditorium-esque room.

Miss Pauling looked at the Spies. "You now know what bits of the building to visit first," she said.

BLU Sniper nodded as he looked at the blueprints. It made sense. This was the sort of thing Spies excelled at, loathe as he was to admit they contributed anything. Thankfully he wasn't the one on the receiving end of the butterfly knife this time.

Miss Pauling looked it over, nodded. "Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all."

"Don't mention it." BLU Sniper headed out the door for his van again, feeling marginally more hopeful. Pauling knew what she was doing at least. That was always a good thing.

Miss Pauling sat down and looked at the Spies. "We've worked out best avenues of approach," she said. "Is there anything you would care to contribute or-Oh. Blast." She reached for a phone, hesitated.

BLU Spy glanced down at the phone. "Yes?" he asked dryly.

"It's...nothing," said Miss Pauling.

"You know, if there is something and you just don't want to say as much, you can tell us to mind our own business," he replied. "We are all working rather closely at the present time anyways. There's no need to, ah... try to pull the wool over our eyes."

"Nothing important," said Miss Pauling. "My...ah, friend's birthday."

"Oh yes. Wish Agatha a happy birthday for me."

Miss Pauling drew a breath, startled, then looked irritated. "And when did you get into the employee information files?"

BLU Spy waved a hand airily. "Is it really relevant? It was long enough ago that it's a bit hard to remember."

"I would like to know," said Miss Pauling. "It might give a good idea of how and when Plan Omega got into them."

"Nine months ago, on the 27th, at three in the morning," Spy supplied with a very small smile.

"And how did you manage that?"

"Our Engineer was doing... something for you. I just made sure he didn't get the door closed properly when exiting your storage area. There wasn't much time to do it either; only about three minutes."

"I see," said Miss Pauling, quite levelly.

RED Spy smiled a little and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. "Not so pleasant being on the receiving end of this sort of thing, is it," he said. "If it sets your mind at ease, I didn't glean anything particularly useful from the files. Some interesting tidbits about some of my colleagues, but..." He shrugged.

"You know my sister's name and birthdate," said Miss Pauling, still not pleased.

"Yes, and I haven't used them against you. You're welcome."

"Yet," said Miss Pauling. "Just so you know, it would be a spectacularly bad idea."

"I gathered as much. But at any rate, we should get back to business."

"Indeed," said Miss Pauling. She indicated two service doors at the back of the building. "These have the fewest security systems."


	22. Chapter 22

**The shark grows riper and more difficult to work with each day. And we still have two weeks to go... But h****ere we are! Internet-cookies to if you spot the Dresden Files reference in here, btw. Standard disclaimer.**

"Mmm... vhe may just need to make more channels from our powersource to zhe reaction chamber. I can't see any vay to prevent a short-out ozervise."

"Zhat sounds like it should vork," said BLU Medic. "Hand me zhe pliers, please."

There was an annoyed grumble from something on the bench behind them.

RED Medic handed BLU the pliers as he looked to the severed head of the former Head. "Oh, you should just be happy zhat vhe spared your life. And just zhink of it! You'll be able to help me in zhe surgery from now on! It vill be much more interesting zhan your old job, I am sure."

"I was able to conduct the surgeries myself before this," said the Head.

"He's my assistant talking head," said BLU Medic, grumpily. "I'm calling him Bob."

"Zhat is a stupid name, und vhe'll figure out after all zhis is over." RED sounded entirely unperturbed. "And anyvays, you forfeited your right to surgery vhen you kidnapped us. Zho! Now you get to vork vith us."

"I don't want to," said the Head, stubbornly. "Besides, he," pointing at the BLU Medic with his chin, "whimpers most satisfyingly when you do anything to him."

"I do not," said BLU.

"Mmm, you'll find you don't haff much of a choice, mein Freund."

"He did surgery on me," said BLU. "He's MINE." He glared at the Head.

"I already said vhe vill decide whose he is later," RED replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now, how is it looking on your end? Do you need zhe soldering iron?"

"Ja," said BLU Medic.

"I'd better stay with the RED Medic," said the Head. "I don't want to have to put up with this coward for the rest of my life."

"Ah, you haff no arms to throw stones so you hurl words instead. It's almost adorable." RED frowned as he passed the iron to BLU. "How close is zhat to being finished?"

"Very. Maybe you should mortally wound zhe head and ve can test it."

"Only if... yes, backup." He glanced to make sure his Kritzkrieg was nearby and nodded, then knocked the head off the table. "Mmm... a broken nose isn't quite mortally wounded, but it should vork for demonstrative purposes."

"Right," said BLU and turned the healing charge on it. The nose straightened with an audible pop.

"That hurt," snarled the Head.

"Ha, it still heals properly! But vhe need to build up zhe charge to make sure." RED set the Head back onto the table before turning to BLU. "Your turn."

BLU picked the head up and knocked it against the table before repositioning it, deftly avoiding the snapping teeth. "All yours," he said to RED.

They went back and forth like that for a while, knocking the head against things or hitting it before healing it with the Quick-Fix. Soon enough the charge was full.

"All vight, now vhe need to see if zhe Uber vorks." He moved in front of BLU. "Vhe already know zhat it can vork from team to team, zho vhe don't need to get anozer of your teammates."

"Good," said BLU, and activated the ubercharge.

The small surgery glowed blue. The severed head started at them. BLU Medic cackled. "Zhey said it couldn't be done, but ve did it! Suck on zhat, Mann Co und your stupid built-in obsolescence!"

Then, after a few seconds, "Now vhat?"

RED examined his ubered hand with a grin. "Make sure zhis is legitimate. Vait von moment." He picked up a scalpel and without preamble drove it as hard as he could against his hand. The blade snapped off, and his skin showed no signs of injury.

"Ha! Perfect."

BLU Medic grinned at him, seized an ubersaw, and hurled it at RED. It bounced off with a clang, and the ubercharge fizzled out. "Just vanted to be certain," he said, shrugged.

"Or you just vanted to zhrough zhings at me, but it doesn't matter." RED smiled happily down at the Quick-Fix. "Do you zhink vhe are ready?"

"Ja," said BLU. "Shall ve do zhe same to yours?"

"It vouldn't hurt. I'll go fetch it." And with that RED left the room.

BLU Medic looked around the surgery, grinning broadly. He shrugged out of the Medipack, ran an appreciative hand along its top.

"Ja, zhis should do," he said. He thought about the BLU Heavy and how well he'd do with this to keep him alive. His mind wandered.

"Are you _blushing_?" the Head said incredulously.

"No!" said BLU Medic.

"It's very stupid to lie when the evidence is right there," the Head replied. "The question is why?" His eyes slid to the Quick-Fix's hose thoughtfully.

"None of your business," said BLU Medic, and turned his back on the head. Even the back of his neck was bright red.

"It's the Heavy, isn't it?"

BLU Medic gave him an irritated look. "From sadistic commander to gossiping schoolgirl. You are _pathetic_."

"In other words, I'm right." The Head looked very smug, even unattached to a body. "And I don't see how YOU can call anyone pathetic."

"One of us still has a body," said the Medic. "And I cannot see how zhis is interesting to you. Unless you're...envious." He gave the Head a nasty smile. "Zhere is quite a lot to be envious of, if you take my meaning."

"If I still had a stomach, I might have vomited." The Head rolled his eyes. "Speaking of schoolgirls, does the rest of the team have any idea what a snivelling little weakling you are?"

The Medic's face froze a little. "I zhink zhe same zhing might be said about you. Oh, vhere is she? Zhey told you zhat Miss Pauling made you sing like a bird vith nozzhing more zhan a nail file."

"I had no reason to hold onto that information," the Head replied, though his face had darkened. "Why should I remain loyal to the company that let me be captured?"

"Keep telling yourself zhat."

"You forget that I actually heard you when you were whimpering on that table. I don't have to rely on shoddy second-hand accounts; I KNOW you're pathetic."

The Medic turned and glared at him. "Ja? Und I suppose you vould haff been able to deal vith...vith zhat vithout turning a hair?"

The Head fell silent. To be honest he didn't care much about whether he could have taken the torment he put the Medic through or not. He was just happy to make him miserable.

There was a tap at the door. Medic went to answer it and found BLU Spy with a shrouded object. "This is for you," he said. Smirking. "I meant to give it to you last night, but there wasn't time. See what you can do for them, oui?"

Medic took it with raised eyebrows. "I vill. Danke, Spy."

He brought it back to a lab bench and pulled the covering off. And stared.


	23. Chapter 23

**Marvel at the fast update! Marvel at it, I say! ...anyway, standard disclaimer. **

It was a terrarium, filled with wingless butterflies.

The creatures had survived surprisingly well, all things considered, but they didn't look too healthy. He tried turning the new Quick-Fix on them; it did nothing for the wings. "Vell," he said, and then didn't know what to say next, just stood and stared at the poor crawling creatures. Then he looked back at the Head, eyes narrowed. "Zhat vas vhere zhe vings came from? In your office?"

The Head watched him, inscrutably. "It's funny," he said softly. "I'd think you'd care more about the well-being of the men you work with and around than a swarm of insects."

"Zhe ozzah Medic keeps doves," said BLU Medic. "Vhy not haff some pets? Keeps me...human." There was a vicious glint in his eyes.

"Human, yes. Because humans regularly chop off each other's legs and replace them with tentacles." The Head tilted to the side just slightly. "You know, I think the real difference between you and me is that I make no pretenses about what I am."

"Zhe Spy got better," Medic pointed out, pulling out a little gray furry thing and placing it gently on the bench. He started rattling through drawers. "Und I don't chop zhe vings off of defenceless butterflies."

"Did you know he would get better?"

"Ja," said BLU Medic.

"And what would have happened if he didn't?"

"RED Medic vould haff vorked somezhing out. He's not stupid."

"Does that mean anything? Brilliant people make mistakes and die every day. You know as well as I do that a split second decision in a surgery can mean the difference between life and death for your patient. And yet you are perfectly fine with doing... well, whatever you please here, experimental and unnecessary surgery that could very well have disastrous results, and still you have the audacity to think you're morally superior to me."

BLU Medic looked over his shoulder, real anger in his eyes. "I may not haff done zhe zhings zhat RED Medic has, but I do remember zhem. Und all of vere for good reason. Zhe man he killed vas zhe von vho oversaw zhe deaths ov our- ov his parents und siblings und niece. You, on zhe ozzah hand, are a foolish, cruel creature that pulls the wings off of butterflies and breaks down vhen somevon threatens him vith a nail file." He paused. "Besides, my surgery on zhe Spy vas done vith some anesthetic."

"...you are a complete idiot." The Head looked entirely disbelieving.

"An idiot?" BLU Medic turned around. "I have his memories. Zhey are not mine, but zhey vake me in zhe night, just as zhey do him. I have spent zhe same time living despite zhem. I have spent the same time mourning zhe same people. Zhey shot my niece too, und my sister, und my brother, und my oldest sister. Zhe pit zhey vere buried in did not stop moving for three days. If zhat is not enough to justify a skeleton, zhe skeleton ov zhe man vho said 'Fire' ovah zhe screaming-" He took a breath to steady himself, his hands clenching. "Ve have done things, you fool," he said, very quietly, "ve have done zhings far vorse zhan anyzhing on zhe files, und I tell you, vith vhat zhey did to me vhen zhey caught me, vith vhat zhey did to my family, all of it was justified. All of it."

The Head said nothing, swallowed hard. There was something focused and sharp about the Medic's face, nothing like the usual diffuse manic energy, and it was terrifying.

The Medic, meanwhile, located a material that he thought might work and started cutting shapes out of it. "Vell, anyzhing else?" he said over his shoulder.

"No, I don't think there is," the Head said flatly.

Medic started fiddling with forceps and a scalpel. "Good."

The Head watched in silence for a moment. "You're trying to construct new wings for them?"

"Ja. It is cruel otherwise."

"They're BUTTERFLIES. It's unlikely they'll live much longer anyways. They don't even have true brains."

"Ja," said BLU. "It's a test of skill."

"...charming. Don't you have a war to prepare for or something?"

"Already done."

RED Medic bustled through the door. "All vight, I haff zhe Quick-Fix und... vhat are you doing?"

"Fixing zhis moron's handivork," said BLU.

"Ah... zhat's all vell and good," RED replied with a frown, "but shouldn't vhe be, ah... making preparations?"

"Ja, I vas vaiting for you." The BLU Medic presented RED with a butterfly, its wings replaced by slips of red material. "Vhat do you zhink?"

"Very, er, interesting," he replied slowly, looking confused. "I don't really see... yes anyvays, are you ready?"

"Ja. Let's get to vork."

* * *

The Heavies sat together in the common room, looking after their guns and occasionally darting suspicious glances at one another. After a while, RED Heavy cleared his throat and said, "Is your Doktor all right? He was not his best when I saw him."

"He is," said BLU Heavy, and didn't look up.

"Is good."

A long pause, lots of fiddling as BLU Heavy kept himself from saying anything particularly self-incriminating to the RED Heavy.

Until the explosion.

RED Heavy lept to his feet. "They dare attack now?" he shouted, hefting his minigun.

"Came from inside base," said BLU Heavy, picking up his own. "Furnace room, maybe. We go together."

"Da." RED started to the door. "Should be all right, yes?"

"Da." They made their way down into the depths of the base, and BLU Heavy kicked open the door to the furnace room when they got to it. And froze.

"What...?" he started, and gave up.

Both Demomen and both Pyros looked up at them, all in a profound state of inebriation, and all smelling strongly of smoke. The explosion had obviously happened there; hair stood on end, clothes were sootblackened, and the shattered remains of beer and scumpy and kerosene bottles were everywhere.

RED Heavy blinked. "What is happening in here?" he asked in disbelief.

BLU Demoman hiccupped, with great dignity.

"Mmph hrrrd huuuuur hurr mrt murrk hu HURRRRMM MMMPH MMMMM!" said RED Pyro. (We figured how to make a really big bang!)

"Hrrrm mmph," said BLU Pyro. (Really big.)

"Ye kin see tha' it worked," said RED Demoman.

"Hic," said BLU Demoman.

RED Heavy frowned. "Can you make again, when we are next to enemy base?"

"Hurrr!" (Yes!)

"I think that is yes," RED Heavy said with a nod. "Keep working on that."

"Not do it until then, da?" said BLU Heavy. Because really, having drunken Demomen and Pyros running around the rest of the base with explosives was a very bad idea.

"Hic," said BLU Pyro, and swayed.

"Hurrglurf," agreed RED Pyro, and leaned against BLU Pyro. "Hurrt hurff mumph murrf." (Out of the way.)

"Huu hrrrrf mpph murrf huuud..." (I don't feel so good...)

"Hurrt hurff muph murrf muffh, mmph." (Makes two of us, girl...)

BLU Heavy stepped aside, and the two Pyros swayed past en route to the bathroom. He looked at the Demomen. "Go see doktors," he said. "Hangover tomorrow not good."

"Mooch obliged," said RED Demoman, helping BLU Demoman up.

"Da. Need clear heads for attack." RED Heavy watched them leave.

"Doktors not going to be happy," said BLU Heavy. "Might be funny. Your doktor shout and throw things much?"

"Probably." RED Heavy grinned. "We should watch. Is good, yes?"

"Is good," said BLU Heavy, and started off toward the infirmary.

* * *

Miss Pauling had a moment to herself, and took advantage of the opportunity to call her sister. She knew the number of the bar the party was going to be held at. It was supposed to have good ribs, cheap beer, and be close enough to a police station that a good birthday party could be reliably finished up with a brawl with the cops. She'd been looking forward to it.

"Heey?" said an unfamiliar voice. The sounds of a party in full swing came over the line, bad, whining music and hum of conversation and the too-high giggle of a drunk woman.

"Is Agatha Pauling there?"

"Should think so; it's her party. HEY AGATHA IT'S FOR YOU."

A clonk, then, "Hiya big sis. Why aren't you here?"

"Work, I'm afraid. Wanted to say happy birthday."

"You said you'd come." There was a squeak to her sister's voice that told Miss Pauling that the cop-fighting bit of the evening was imminent.

"It was a minor emergency-" she started, but was interrupted by a voice in the background.

"Pipe down!" it demanded. The music had given way to the buzzing of an officious male voice. Agatha went silent for a bit; try as she might, Miss Pauling couldn't make head nor tail of what was being said. Then Agatha said, "You didn't. Not on my birthday!"

"I didn't what?" said Miss Pauling, bewildered.

"They're saying that TF Industries just-"

"Shit!" said Miss Pauling. "We're-damn. Agatha, that's not-Look, I'll call you back when I get it sorted. Have a good party."

"You just declared war on the United States! On my birthday."

"That wasn't us."

"Sounds like your voice."

"Agatha, I can't. All right? Bye." Miss Pauling slammed the receiver down and started shouting.


	24. Chapter 24

**Sorry for delays. Life keeps happening and then things need editing. :P Bleh. And the shark was terrible today. *shudder* **

**Standard disclaimer.**

"You did what?" said BLU Medic, hands still deep inside the RED Medic's medigun, staring at the slumped Demomen in the door.

"Weel, Pyro-tha BLU one-had this wee idea, an' we were workin' on it an' it worked, so we celebrated. Hic."

"We celebrated," intoned BLU Demoman, gravely. After a moment, he added, "Hic."

"Vhat vere you ZHINKING?! Vhe are about to go into battle- not just A battle, zhe most important von vhe haff ever faced togezer, one vithout respawns, und you decided to GET VASTED?!" RED Medic was livid. RED Heavy watched in amusement.

"We'll have to get it out of their systems," said BLU Medic, glumly.

"Hey, we're droonk on tha battlefield all tha time," said RED Demoman. "Tha wee Pyro might not be-"

"You got the Pyros drunk," said BLU Medic, with slow horror.

"Tha wee lassies kin hold their liquor," said BLU Demoman, cheerfully.

"How do you-" BLU Heavy shook his head. "Do not need to know."

"Fess... zhis is not going to be pleasant for any of you," RED gritted out from between his clenched teeth.

"Ja," said BLU. "Ve haff zhat new drug..." He looked at RED. "Shall ve try it?"

"I don't see zhat vhe haff much of a choice," RED replied. "Go get it. I'll prepare zhe injection apparatus."

"Ja. Und you, stop standing zhere. Go get zhe Pyros." This last to the Heavies who looked at each other in dismay.

"Injection apparatus?" said the BLU Demoman, looking a little worried.

The Head snickered.

"YOU can shut up," RED snapped to the Head. "Now go, shnell! Zhe Pyros vill benefit most if zhey receive zhe injection NOW!"

RED Heavy rolled his eyes but shuffled out through the door. "PYROS! WHERE ARE YOU PYROS?"

"You'll find em in tha' loo," said RED Demoman.

"Oh Gott," said BLU Medic, bringing a large vial of something over to the bench. "Now, ve do have enough of zhis, ja?"

"YOU ARE JOKING WITH ME!" RED Heavy shouted back to RED Demo in disbelief.

RED nodded and pulled something large and wicked looking, like a syringe with multiple needles, out from under a counter. "Vell, it's a very simple sort of failure if it does fail."

"Right," said BLU, handing him the vial. "BLU Demoman, roll up your sleeve. Do not vorry, zhis should make you perfectly sober with zhe minimum ov side effects."

RED loaded the syringe-thing and approached BLU Demoman.

"Wait, wait wait," said BLU Demoman. "Mebbe I could take a couple asprin or something? I'm sober already! Why's tha damn big pigsticker necessary?"

"Too late!" RED Medic took BLU Demo's arm and prepared to inject. "Just hold schtill... und vhy is your sleeve still down?"

BLU Medic shoved it up as the Demoman pointedly looked away and gritted his teeth. "Vhere are zhe damn Pyros?" he demanded of the door. "RED Demoman, don't even zhink of it-damn, he's got avay."

"COWARD!" roared BLU Demoman.

RED Heavy stuck his head back in. "The Pyros are hiding in bathroom. Won't come out."

"Ve'll go get zhem," said BLU Medic. "Idiots." RED Medic pressed the button.

BLU Demoman blinked, shook his head. "Tha was amazin'," he said. "Think yeh could make that inta a drink?"

BLU Medic glared at him. "You need no further assistance in vorking your vay through my supply ov spare livers, Herr Demoman."

The Demoman raised his hands. "Joost sayin' yeh could make a mint. I can go get tha otha lad now."

"Please," said BLU Medic.

No sooner had the Demoman vanished than one of the Heavies returned, holding a large peice of drywall. RED Pyro was stuck to the front of it, like a tick to a dog.

"Found little Pyro," he said, and put the drywall down.

RED Pyro cocked her head at the Medics, saw the size of the needle, and said, "HUUUURK hurr." (FUCK no.)

"I...I think ve leave zhe Pyro be for now," said BLU.

"Ja, ah... vhe can administer zhe medication to zhe ozzers first. Zhe Pyro vill see zhat it isn't so bad und..." He trailed off with a shrug.

A bit later, a rather sheepish RED Demoman came back in and (with an expression of the greatest dubiousness) accepted the shot. The Pyro uncurled and detached from the drywall, intrigued.

"Tha's tha uncanniest thing," said RED Demoman. "Is the enormous needle necessary? Really?"

"Ah," said BLU Medic, not sure what to say. He was saved by the arrival of the other Heavy with BLU Pyro, who was looking distinctly green around the gasmask.

RED Pyro looked at the Demoman, then the other Pyro, then got up and staggered over to the table, held out an arm. "Hurr."

"See? It is not so bad." RED Medic looked over to BLU Pyro as his accomplice administered the shot. "You do not vant to be outdone by a RED surely. Look how brave he... er, sh... zhe RED one is being."

The BLU Pyro sighed, and offered an arm without letting go of the Heavy. It was a very big needle.

* * *

Roughly ten minutes later, the Medics were hiding under the lab bench, while the BLU Demoman had made a barricade of the gurney.

"I zhink zhe calculation ov dosage for zhe Pyro's veight vas off by a little!" yelled BLU Medic over the din.

"Oh you REALLY zhink so," RED Medic half-snarled as a stray flame singed his hair. "ACH! Vhy didn't you double-check zhe dosage to start out?"

"I did! You did zhe calculations wrong! Und now ve haff two hyperactive pyromaniacs loose in zhe lab!"

"Not tha I dinnae appreciate tha scientific import a this conversation," said the Demoman, "But how do we get oot?"

"I most assuredly did NOT... egh." RED Medic forced himself to drop it. "Zhe vindow? If zhere is a safe path zhere, vhe should be able to get out. Zhe door vould be better, if vhe could get zhem out of zhe vay."

There was a brief lull in Pyro activity. BLU Medic looked up. "Do I hear feet? I zhink somevon is coming-"

Miss Pauling threw open the door, ducked a gout of flame. "We're too late," she said to the roomful of astonished faces. "It's already happened. We need to be ready to go, now."

"Er," said BLU Medic, with a nervous glance at the Pyro, "give us an hour?"

"What did you do to the Pyros?" Miss Pauling stared. "Now is not the time for experiments!"

"Zhey got drunk," said RED Medic.

"Right before..."

BLU Medic nodded.

"I don't believe this," said Miss Pauling, and had to step out of the way a flying, flaming beaker. It shattered on the wall behind her. "What the hell did you give them?"

"Vell, it vorked perfectly vell on zhe Demomen. Zhis idiot just got zhe body veight conversion wrong."

"If I am an idiot you are doubly so, as you are mein clone. Und I did NOT get zhe veight wrong; you must have done somezing."

"Don't be ridiculous. I did nozzhing!"

The BLU Pyro was on the ceiling, looking down at Miss Pauling with interest. It was slowly dawning on the Pyro that this was not a good thing. "HUUR!"

Miss Pauling pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Administrator is right," she said under her breath. "Eighteen complete idiots... Medics. I need all of them functional within an hour, and by functional I mean not at all like..." She looked up, "like that, do you hear me? If they're still even stuck to anything when I come in here again, I'll inject you with the same thing."

There was a pause.

"I mean it," said Miss Pauling. "If it takes more than an hour, we'll be in enough trouble that waiting for you two to get it out of your system won't make it any worse. Pyro, let go of the ceiling. Where's RED Demoman?"

"He got himself oot a here ta get a bookit o water," said BLU Demoman. "Hasna gotten back yet."

"Smart man," muttered Miss Pauling. "Right. I'll go see to that. Get this cleaned up." And with that, Miss Pauling whirled and left the room.

"Hurrf?" said BLU Pyro, and dropped like a stone.

"Maybe yeh could get em droonk agin," said Demoman.

"Ve could give zhem zhis," said BLU Medic, holding aloft another syringe.

RED blinked, then frowned. "Was ist das?" He didn't think it was something from HIS surgery at least.

"Somezhing new..." said BLU Medic, hopefully.

RED Medic groaned.

"Vhat?" said BLU Medic.

"I don't zhink zhat..." A gust of flame singed RED Medic's hair. "No, nevah mind, just-do it."

"Distract zhem!" BLU Medic readied the syringe. RED Medic gave him an alarmed look but the Demoman was already in motion, vaulting the table with a shout, one of Medic's scalpels in his hand.

RED Medic darted out from behind the table with a shout. "ACHTUNG PYROS! ACHTUNG!" He waved his arms and cast about for something to do once he got their attention.

The Pyros, who'd started after the Demoman, paused and said something muffled, then split up and each went after one of the two. BLU Medic ran up behind the RED Pyro, dodged to the right as the Pyro whirled on him, and jabbed the needle into his or her arm.

He managed to depress the plunger before the Pryo caught him a blow across the jaw that slammed him into the upended table. The BLU Pyro hesitated, not sure whether to help. The RED Pyro took another menacing step toward the BLU Medic and collapsed.

"It vorked!" cried BLU, grinning broadly. The BLU Pyro turned around and started toward him.

Which was when RED Medic slammed into him or her like a bird hitting a window. "Ach, please hurry, I don't zhink- OW!" He danced on the spot as the Pyro's boot collided with his shin.

BLU Medic grabbed another syringe out of his coat pocket and dove for the BLU Pyro. He jabbed it into an arm and held on until the Pyro went limp. He looked up at RED, panting. "Zhere! Zhey should vake up soon..." He turned to look at RED Pyro.

And saw nothing.

"Oh no..."

"Vhat?"

"I...I zhink it sent zhe Pyro to Respawn."

They looked at each other, then down at the Pyro between them, in time to see the body vanish.

RED Medic folded his arms and glared. "Ve could give zhem zhis," he imitated. "It vorked!"

"Vell, zhey aren't hanging off zhe ceiling anymore," BLU pointed out.

"You killed zhem!"

"Zhey got better!"

"Vell..."

"You vere zhe von who lost zhe medical license."

"Zhat does not matter."

"Ve should stay avay from zhem for a vhile, ja?" said BLU Medic, eager to shift the subject away from himself.

"Avay from zhe Pyros, ja."


	25. Chapter 25

**The shark has been dissected. Now comes the midterm. Younger author is hiding under a pile of notes and studying, hence things have been late... Oh, we don't own TF2 or any of its characters, and we certainly don't own the super badass organization here mentioned...**

Miss Pauling stepped into the workshop and stared.

RED Engineer grinned as he wiped his hands off on a greasy rag. "You like it, Miss Pauling?"

"Oh my God," said cool, unflappable Miss Pauling, staring. She had to tilt her head back a little.

BLU Engineer took a swig of beer. "Told him you'd say that. Looks like we'd both been workin' on plans for a mobile, manually operated sentry for some time now. Only thing was, we were thinkin' a little too small."

"Now we've got somethin' a little more useful in a combat situation," RED Engineer continued. "It'll take two to operate it, but it'll be somethin' to see when it's in action."

Miss Pauling swallowed. "Well done," she said, herself again. "I think you've just made up for all the damage the damn Medics did. Get it ready to go. We need to get to TF Industries immediately."

"The Medics?" BLU looked up with a slight frown as he set his beer aside. "What fool thing have they done this time? Sewn someone's hand to their forehead?"

RED laughed.

"Tried out a new instant sober-izng compound on the Pyros," said Miss Pauling.

"Damn." BLU rose to join RED in getting their things packed away. "Well so long as they've got it all squared away now, right?"

"For now," said Miss Pauling, "I'll be happy if they detach them from the ceiling."

The door slammed open. "Where's me bloody van?" demanded BLU Sniper.

Both Engineers looked up, frowning. "Uh... we don't have it, if that's what you're implyin'," BLU told him.

"Where'd y'all park it last?" RED asked.

"Oh," said Miss Pauling. "I sent the Spies ahead. It was what was available."

For one moment Sniper just stared at her in disbelief. Then he started shouting.

"WOT THE BLOODY 'ELL DID YA DO THAT FOR?! I LIVE IN THAT VAN, IT'S GOT ALL MY STUFF IN IT! _AND YOU LET THE BLOODY SPOYS DRIVE IT AHEAD OF US? WOT IF THEY SABOTAGE IT?!"_

"Take it easy there son," BLU Engineer replied, sounding mildly surprised. "I mean, this is an emergency-"

"WOT WOULD YOU DO IF A BLOOMIN' SPOOK DROVE YOUR TRUCK OFF INTO THE SUNSET WITHOUT YOU KNOWING?!"

"It was the other alternative," said Miss Pauling, "But you left the keys in the transmission, and I needed them out of here as quickly as possible."

Sniper cracked his knuckles out of nerves, looking around the room. "If they get into my food..." he grumbled, more to himself than anyone, "I'll wring both their filthy necks, the weasels..."

"Aw come on, we've got plenty of food at the base." RED smiled slightly.

Sniper turned back to Pauling, teeth gritted together. "Roight. If... if it wos necessary... bloody hell though..." He sighed and sank into a seat. "An' they wos both goin' on about how it smelled like piss the other noight."

Miss Pauling, inclined to agree with the Spies, merely shrugged. "We'll be gone within the hour. Get your things."

Sniper scowled at her before leaving. "It doesn't smell like piss," he muttered on the way out.

BLU Engineer sighed. "He can just hitch a ride with the RED anyways. Hopefully the Spahs'll be too busy doin' what you want 'em to do to do anything to his van. They argue enough as it is."

RED Engineer snorted. "Good luck with that. Now lesse... we've got most everything packed onto this sucker already."

"Good." Miss Pauling looked up at the truck, shook her head and made for the door. "Pardon me. I need to get my affairs in order as well."

* * *

Almost dark, the last long rays of sunlight came in low through the windshields of the little cavalcade, lighting the dust behind them. There was a lot of squinting going on, and a lot of arguing in the back of Miss Pauling's purple pickup. Some idiot had bundled the Medics and the Demomen and the Pyros in the same vehicle.

RED Medic edged as close to the door as he could to avoid the glare of BLU Demoman. He didn't want to try to explain himself (even though he was certain everyone was overreacting; the Pyros and Demomen should have known better than to get wasted before a battle like THIS), and he certainly didn't want the Demoman within arm's reach of himself or anything he held dear.

"Zho... zho how long vill it be, do you zhink?" he asked no one in particular as politely as he could.

"Another half hour," said Miss Pauling over her shoulder, steering neatly around a squashed armadillo. The back window on the truck was open. A Pyro rode on the front seat of the truck, making excited comments.

"Danke." RED fell silent again.

The BLU Demoman gave both Medics a vicious, one-eyed glare and settled back to sharpening the Eyelander. BLU Medic thought this was unwise, it being a moving vehicle, but had no desire to say anything about it and get the Demomen angry again.

The Snipers followed behind in RED's van, and the mechanical monstrosity of the Engineers followed that. An enormous dust cloud kicked up behind it.

RED Medic looked back at it through the rear window, fingers drumming the armrest. Soon now...

BLU started checking the Medigun over again. "Here's hoping zhis von't short out again..." he muttered.

"I zhink it vill vork," RED Medic muttered back. "Vhe took all zhe precautions."

"It might not work?" RED Demoman looked up. "Well. It isna as if I expected anythin' other."

"It might not vork, Herr Demoman," RED Medic said coldly, "in zhe same vay zhat your sticky launcher may not vork. It is not likely; it is only a possibility."

BLU Pyro said something. "Like tha serum had a possibility a not workin'?" BLU Demoman translated.

"It...vas better zhan vomiting more, ja?" said BLU Medic, a little hopefully.

"Zhat vas completely different," RED Medic snapped. "Vhe KNOW zhis vorks. It is simply a matter of... ach, forget it." He muttered something in German and looked back out the window.

BLU Medic looked down and tried to pay attention to the circuits in the medigun. He'd looked at them too many times; they blended into an uninteresting mass before his eyes.

They kept driving.

RED Medic was about ready to start banging his head into the car window. It smelled like scrumpy and stale vomit, and the scenery didn't seem to change as they moved. "Are vhe almost zhere?"

"Twenty minutes," said Miss Pauling.

"Danke." Twenty minutes... he could make twenty minutes. Hopefully.

Miss Pauling, for her part, was beginning to have some sympathy for her mother's testiness during family road trips. She strongly doubted that she and Agatha had managed to be any more vexing than her current passengers, who were, to make things worse, allegedly adults. Responsibility had always been out of the question but _really_, they were supposed to be professionals.

Finally they reached the base. It was built, surprisingly enough, along the same lines as the place they'd rescued the others from the other night, with the exception that a large shiny office building shielded most of it from the view of a nearby road. There was a well maintained lawn in front, and a lot of vehicles parked around the outskirts, some with very big floodlights attached, bathing the entire scene in artificial glare.

RED Medic sighed with relief. He'd never been a man to sit back and wait for things. He needed action.

"Oh, lovely. The entire US army," said Miss Pauling, and turned the engine off. She tried to put the car in gear before leaving it; it made a reluctant grinding noise. "Not now," she grumbled, pumped the clutch and wrenched the gearshift down. Things cooperated.

The van parked beside them, and the... enormous mobile sentry-tank pulled up alongside. RED Sniper stuck his head out of the window. "Wot's the plan?"

"I talk to them," said Miss Pauling. "It'd be nice if they realized we were all on the same side. Less paperwork."

A man in a uniform, obviously a high-ranking officer of some sort, strode sharply over to Pauling's pickup. "Are you Miss Pauling?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes," said Miss Pauling. The syringe gun lay on the seat next to her, hidden from the officer's view. Probably better that way; didn't want him getting nervous because she was armed. Visibly.

"You are aware of the situation regarding your employer, TF Industries?" The man leaned a little closer, a frown on his face. A soldier (not a Soldier, mind) stood outside the window and was watching the people inside the car carefully, hands on his gun. RED put his hands slowly down to rest on his medi-gun.

Meanwhile, a small group was approaching the Engineers very warily. A few more were already at the van.

"That's why I'm here," said Miss Pauling. She wondered whether to open the car door.

"Please step out of the vehicle," the man replied, a slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Miss Pauling looked at the Pyro, shrugged a bit, and did. The door stuck a bit, but she managed to give it a superstitious kick and step out without seeming too ridiculous.

The man motioned for the others to leave the vehicle as well. "Are you armed?" he asked her sternly.

RED Medic set his jaw but tried to relax. He had his Blutsauger if worst came to worst. Slowly he exited the vehicle.

Miss Pauling shook her head. She didn't think he'd count a nail file as a weapon. "Are you in charge here?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh this is ridiculous," came BLU Sniper's grumble as someone began patting him down. RED Sniper looked like he might punch the first person to lay a hand on him. Meanwhile the others- Soldiers, Scouts, and Heavies- were unloading from the back of the van. Someone had got out a megaphone in an attempt to talk with the Engineers atop their giant tank thing.

"Right. What's your plan of action-" Miss Pauling looked at his uniform, "Colonel? It'll be very difficult to get in if you don't have a cohesive one."

The Colonel's frown became, if possible, even more pronounced. He was an older man, square and with a face rather like a bulldog's, but with keen bright blue eyes. "Ma'am, you are aware that we have every reason to suspect you of helping your employers in this assault on the U.S. government, aren't you?"

RED Medic tensed very slightly but kept his hand from moving to where the gun was secured inside his labcoat.

"Sir, if you could raise your arms so we can search you for weapons," a man grunted.

"They're imposters," said Miss Pauling. "TF Industries has been infiltrated by a hostile force. We're here to help."

"We will investigate your claim ma'am, but first you and your friends will have to come with me."

_"SIRS, WE NEED YOU TO EXIT THE VEHICLE,"_ came the boom over the megaphone. The Engineers made no move to get out yet.

"No. We will have this discussion right here and your men will cease searching mine," said Miss Pauling. "We will render all possible aid, but we will need your cooperation."

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME, I AM NOT SOME CIVILIAN PERSON YOU CAN JUST BOSS AROUND AND DETAIN AND- IF YOU TOUCH THAT ROCKET LAUNCHER MY BOOT WILL GO SO FAR UP YOUR ASS IT WILL HAVE TO BE SURGICALLY REMOVED, PRIVATE!"

"If you are obstructive, not only am I fully authorized to take whatever measures said obstruction merits, but I will be sending a highly unfavorable report to our superiors."

"I appreciate your position, ma'am, but you're still a civilian. It's in your best interest to cooperate."

_"SIRS, IF YOU DO NOT EXIT THE VEHICLE WE ARE AUTHORIZED TO USE NECESSARY FORCE TO BRING YOU IN."_

"It's moi van, and I don't want ya searchin' it! There's nuffin' in there!"

"And who told you I was a civilian?" said Miss Pauling. She produced an ID badge from somewhere around her person. The officer peered at it.

"What the hell's SHIELD?" he said, taken aback. "This can't be a military badge!"

"Would you like to stake your career on that?" said Miss Pauling. "Because that's exactly what you're doing, Mister. Tell your men to stand down or you'll be explaining to a court martial why your obstructionist disinclination to cooperate with a specialized organization in a time of crisis placed the entire operation in jeopardy."

The man's frown was now a genuine scowl, but he hesitated. "Well... as much as I hate to say it, that looks genuine." He turned to the men who were trying to get around Sniper so they could search his van. "Stand down-" he started.

"ARREST THAT WOMAN!" snarled an all too familiar voice. RED Medic jumped, blinking in dismay at the figure approaching. But...but they'd left his head on the lab bench!


	26. Chapter 26

**And updated! I hope we're not being too terribly infrequent, but school...is kinda evil right now. Younger author is still studying for the exam on the shark, and trying to write a grant application (OH GOD) while older author is actually being an adult and going to work. The idea horrifies the younger author too. **

**Standard disclaimer.**

"Darn," said Miss Pauling, and grabbed the officer from behind, putting the nail file to his throat. "Don't even think it," she said to the man approaching them, an exact replica of the Head in RED Medic's lab.

The officer stiffened but otherwise didn't move. From the look on his face, you'd think he was mildly irritated at something that happened all the time instead of being held more or less hostage. "SHIELD huh?" he said dryly, then was quiet because that file was a bit sharper than he'd expected.

RED Medic didn't hesitate but pulled out his syringe gun. At the same time the sentry-tank whirred to life, gun spinning to point at the clone-Head running toward the group.

"Try not to kill them. The paperwork would be appalling," she said, then, "One of my friends works for them. We pick each others' pockets on a regular basis. Trust me, you don't want to meet the real thing."

"Now vhat?" said BLU Medic to RED, fighting with his syringe gun.

"Just try not to kill anyvon, ja?" RED Medic replied, though he certainly looked... well, he had that same grin on his face he usually got when he ran into battle.

"Shouldn't we try ta get away from here?" BLU Sniper shouted. He was already climbing back into the van; the people near him didn't seem to want to attack, partially because of RED Sniper's suspicious jar and the crazed look on his face.

"Yep. You're coming with us," said Miss Pauling to the colonel. "For a bit. As soon as we're in, we'll leave you at the gate."

The colonel thought it best not to answer, but he did gulp slightly.

The two teams loaded themselves into the various vehicles as quickly as possible. RED Medic pulled back toward the truck he, Pauling, the other Medic, the Demos, and the Pyros had arrived in, opening the door without turning his syringe gun from the crowd of people. With one hand he opened the door for Pauling.

"Thank you," she said. "BLU Medic, take the hostage. I'll drive."

RED Medic slid into the back seat, waiting for BLU Medic and the colonel to follow.

BLU Medic looked at the colonel. "You first," he said. "I insist." He waited for the man to get in, then climbed in himself and slammed the door. Miss Pauling took the parking brake off and started the car up again. Something on the outside went _thunk_ and was ignored.

RED was putting down his gun. The Demomen both had swords, hardly useful in these confined quarters. And the colonel literally had something up his sleeve.

In an instant the knife was to BLU Medic's throat, and the colonel was looking to Pauling through the rear-view mirror.

"We're not leaving," he said, quiet and sharp.

"Erk," said BLU Medic. He looked sidelong at RED Medic.

Miss Pauling sighed, exasperated. "Last time I let the mooks guard the hostage," she muttered under her breath. "You know, we have another one. And that one's not even the original."

_"Mooks?" _hissed RED Medic irritably, but he was watching BLU and the colonel closely.

"Your point? He's one of yours anyways." The colonel neither let up nor pressed the knife closer, but his gaze hardened. "You've got to the count of three to let me out."

BLU Medic tried to mouth _femoral artery_ at RED Medic and hoped like hell his colleague would get the idea. The medipack was on, but it wouldn't do too much about the knife at his throat. The car moved.

RED didn't have his saw out and ready. What he did have, however, was a scalpel.

"One."

He shifted just slightly as soon as he was sure the man's attention was focused on Miss Pauling.

"Two-" and that was followed by a string of expletives as a blade sank into his leg. RED had reached up at the same moment to grab the man's arm and keep him from slicing open his friend's throat. Blood soaked the seat, and the colonel's struggles became feebler.

"Thank you," said BLU Medic, a little faintly. "Colleague, his hands. So he doesn't try zhat again." And shifting around uncomfortably, he pulled out his medigun and turned it on.

"Keep him alive," said Miss Pauling.

"I know," said BLU Medic. "Only, ve cannot do zhe same for zhe upholstery."

"It's seen worse."

RED pulled the colonel's hands down and bound them together with a strip of bandages. The colonel was preoccupied with the way his leg and pants magically came back together.

"What the hell is that thing?" he asked when he'd found his tongue again, looking down in amazement at the Medigun.

"Classified. Can't tell you more." Miss Pauling sounded incredibly smug.

The colonel gave her a somewhat reproachful look and tugged gloomily at the bandages around his wrists. "Like that thing's something with OUR government anyways."

"It might be, now shut up," RED said irritably.

"Just behave," said Miss Pauling. She had the tact not to say _don't you wish we were on the same side now?_ but the Pyro went "Mmph mppm hmmmm mmmph mmerf mmmph mmph mu?" which meant the same thing.

"Vhy me," muttered BLU Medic. "Alvays, zhey take me hostage."

The hostage shifted his weight before eyeing BLU. "You were available," he said simply. "It's nothing personal."

RED smirked slightly and looked out the window.

BLU rested his head against the back of the cab and groaned. "Zhat's vhat zhey all say."

"We're here," said Miss Pauling.

"Does that mean you're letting me go now?"

"Shut up," RED Medic replied again as he peered through the window.

"Yes," said Miss Pauling. "Just leave him there, Medic, his friends will get him. Now, if the Spies did what they were supposed to..." She grabbed the duffel bag, booted the door open (it had acquired a dent at some recent point) and climbed out, removing the flamethrower.

Which was when the lock mechanism of the door spat blue sparks.

RED jerked back in surprise. "Somehow I do not zhink zhat is vhat is supposed to happen."

The colonel gritted his teeth impatiently. "You can still open your door, can't you?"

"I zhink so." RED tried the handle.

"Oh hell," said Miss Pauling, looking at the truck. There was something that looked like a sapper on it. But bigger. Clunkier. Somehow eviler.

The Pyro tumbled out of the open door and ran. "MMMPH MMMMM!"

BLU Medic kicked at the door, the suddenly non-functional door. There were whisps of smoke rising from the engine, the upholstery of the front seats.

"Ah, Fraulein," RED asked, voice kept carefully calm, "vould you mind if I made an escape route for myself, zhe BLU, und zhe hostage zhrough von of zhe vindows?" He hefted his saw.

"Do." There was an unaccustomed note of urgency in Miss Pauling's voice. The Pyro was still running. The Demomen were nowhere to be seen. "I don't think we want to be around when it goes."

"When it goes _what?" _the colonel asked, but RED shot him a half-exasperated half-panicked glare that got him to be quiet. In an instant he was using the Ubersaw to break the window's glass. There was still plenty along the bottom of the window, but if anyone got cut it wouldn't be serious. They had Mediguns.

With a bit of struggling, he managed to make it through, and with even more struggling and a few complaints the colonel was pulled through after. Then he looked to BLU, waiting.

The effort of will it took BLU Medic to stay still while the colonel and RED Medic climbed out was enormous. One corner of the seat put out a little tendril of flame; with a little horrified gasp he dove for the window and squirmed out to land face first on the dusty road. He lay there a moment, getting himself under control, and then smelled smoke, far more strongly than was warranted by the truck behind him.

His lab coat was on fire.

"Verdammt." RED strode quickly over and stamped on the flames on the tail of BLU's coat. "Take it off if zhe flames are getting too close to your body!"

The hostage hesitated as he took in the situation. But there wasn't really any cover around or something sharp to get his hands free. And really, well, Pauling was right about one thing; when the thing on the truck 'went off', they would want to be as far from it as possible.

BLU shed the medipack, shed the coat, stumbled back from it, shaking.

RED rolled his eyes and pulled BLU to his feet immediately. "Grab zhe Medipack so vhe can get out of here. Zhe Fraulein seems to zhink zhe truck is going to explode."

The colonel walked toward Pauling, looking uncertain about what was going on.

BLU managed to grab the medipack. "Right," he said, still trembling. "Danke."

"Yes?" said Miss Pauling. She had the Phlogistinator tucked under one arm, and the syringe gun and sword slung over her back.

"How far do you think the blast radius will reach, and how long do you estimate we have to move?" he asked in a low voice.

"Not the slightest idea." She glanced after the Pyro. "Other than it'll be pretty big."

"Then shouldn't we get moving?" he asked in obvious alarm. RED Medic had grabbed his own things and was trotting toward them.

"Yup," said Miss Pauling. Her eyes were on the mobile sentry. She knew she'd seen a wrangler somewhere in that mix...

The van had pulled to a stop a good ways away from them. The enormous sentry-tank, however, rolled toward the truck, the gun portion aiming for it.

_"Y'all might want to move back a ways," _came one of the Engineers over a loudspeaker.

"Right," said Miss Pauling. BLU Medic had already scrambled back. She followed suit. "Will this do?"

_"Yeah, that should work just... hang on." _There was the sound of a brief discussion, muffled perhaps by a hand placed over the microphone.

_"On second thought, y'all come toward us, right up next to the gun."_

"Vhy vould ve- oh. OH." RED Medic's bewilderment turned to understanding, and he ran back toward the sentry.

"Are they crazy?!" the Colonel hissed.

"Don't argue, just follow!"

BLU Medic staggered after RED Medic. There were arcs of electricity sparking over the truck now. He came to a stop practically at the bumper of the sentry and propped himself up, jamming his hands in his pockets so no one would see how hard they were shaking.

Colonel frowned at Pauling irritably, but he followed them. Part of this was because both of the Medics were by the gun, and if he were about to get horribly mangled by shrapnel he'd rather it be near those magical healing guns.

RED Medic's brow arced at BLU. "Are you going to be all right, mein Freund?"

"Fine," said BLU Medic. "I vish you vouldn't say anyzhing more, in fact."

"Remind me," said Miss Pauling, tucking herself up against the sentry with the Medics, "to increase the allowance of anti-anxiety medications in our supply shipments."

"Vhy not a good therapist?" grumbled BLU Medic.

"Because he-" with a nod at RED Medic, "tried to inoculate the last one with an experimental vaccine for Superfluous Uterus."

"Vell he didn't get Superfluous Uterus, did he?" RED replied in obvious annoyance.

"No, he got Superfluous Uteres_es_. On his _skin._ Do you have _any idea_ of what our insurance did after that?"

"Zhe vaccine vould haff worked if he had let me try it again! It simply needed an adjustment. Und besides, it vas easier to remove zhe utereses from zhe outside zhan it vould haff been if zhey vere internal."

"I think I'm going to need a therapist when all this is over," grumbled the Colonel.

_"Everyone hang tight and don't leave the field. This is gonna get a little noisy."_


	27. Chapter 27

**The shark midterm has been accomplished. Hopefully we'll be able to post the rest of the fic before we get eaten by midterms again...In any case, here you are! Standard disclaimer. **

Any questions anyone might have had about what 'field' meant were answered immediately as a steely gray force field appeared around the tank. The gun's muzzle swiveled and took aim at the truck, then opened fire.

The truck quivered a moment and then exploded. Hugely. Flame belched around them, dry and so hot it was painful, even with the forcefield in the way. The noise wasn't so much audible as palpable; the ground shook.

Then silence. BLU Medic stood up, shaking hard, his back bruised from falling against the sentry, but otherwise fine. Miss Pauling took her hands down from covering her ears.

RED Medic was clinging to the side of the sentry by what little handholds he could find, eyes looking about ready to bug out of his sockets. And even now the corner of his mouth twitched as though he were barely suppressing a smile. "...y-yes... eheh... is everyvon... everyvon all right?"

The hostage hadn't been so lucky. Without his hands loose to help steady himself, he'd fallen to the ground and busted his nose, which was bleeding freely. With a growled curse he tried to push himself up.

Miss Pauling tucked a hand under his arm and helped. "Sorry," she said. "Right. Let's get moving. We'll leave you propped against a rock here or something."

BLU Medic recovered himself enough to heal the hostage. One hatch on the sentry opened, and the BLU Demoman poked his head out. "Tha was a bonny idea, aye?" he called.

"Thanks, you're a real saint," the colonel grumbled. He took her assistance without saying anything further, though.

RED Medic grinned up at the Demoman. "Ja! Vas it yours?"

"Yes. An' I'd thank the botha ye ta remember it next time yer inclined to do experiments."

"I vill do zhat," said BLU. "Danke." It sounded like a question. He was shaking still. It was probably apparent.

"Oh schtop being zho dramatic." RED turned to Pauling, still a little shaky himself. "Vhere to next?"

RED Engineer peered out from behind BLU Demo to listen.

"Into the building," said Miss Pauling. "A good thing they designed the atrium on that scale, isn't it."

The Engineer sized the door up, tilting his helmet back slightly. "Yeah... we should be able to get in just fine."

"Und zhe rest of us excluding zhe hostage are on foot?" Medic asked. "Or should zhe Snipers und zhe rest of zhem come in vith zheir van?"

"We'll want the people to go in the service doors at the back," said Miss Pauling. "The tank goes in the front and creates a big distraction. Automated security systems should be off-line if everything went to plan."

"Right. I vill get zhe ozers und lead zhe vay to zhe back if zhat is all vight vith you." RED started to turn, then paused. "Does zhis mean zhe Spies vill be joining us again soon?"

"I hope so." Miss Pauling settled the syringe gun more comfortably. "Let's go."

* * *

The parking lot that the service doors opened on smelled of oil and stale garbage, and the service doors themselves were proving difficult to open.

"Egh..." Medic watched while RED Sniper and BLU Heavy took turns trying to pry the door open. He would have helped himself, of course, but as they did have the Heavies there, and the Soldiers and Demomen and Snipers, well, they would probably be able to get a better grip on the slimy germ-laden handle. Not that he was a germaphobe per se, but if there was nothing to be gained from touching something like that...

"No good!" Heavy grunted in frustration. Sniper staggered back rubbing his hands together, looking frustrated.

"Could we try shooting at it?" said BLU Medic, hopefully. "Maybe vith a-"

"DID SOMEONE SAY SHOOTING? IT WAS ABOUT TIME SOMEONE SAID SHOOTING BECAUSE SHOOTING IS THE AMERICAN WAY OF OPENING DOORS! STAND ASIDE! MAGGOTS!"

"Wait until I get outta the bloody way at least!" Sniper shouted in alarm as Soldier leveled his rocket launcher at the door. He and Heavy just had time to throw themselves flat on the ground as the projectile whistled past, blasting into the metal and throwing shrapnel everywhere.

"That vorks," said BLU Medic, and headed through.

"MMPH! MHRRDRR, MMPH!" said BLU Pyro, but the Medic was already through the door.

And that was about the time that the seemingly solid floor in front of BLU Medic gave way under his yelped, grabbed for something, missed, and went flat on his back.

RED Medic sighed from outside the door. "He vill never learn..." He took a step toward the door, hesitated, and looked to the others.

"Herr Demoman, vhy don't you see vhat has happened?"

"Oh, no," said the RED Demoman. "Ye be tha guinea pig for once, doc. I'll hold onta ye, but no."

Medic gave him a dirty look but sighed. "I vould zhink you vould value your healing class more highly," he muttered under his breath before sticking his head through the door. "Please do hold onto me Demoman. I zhink I see him but he may be unconscious, und it is dark in zhere."

Demoman got a good hold of the Medic's collar. "Need a flashlight in there?"

There was a little miserable noise from somewhere in the middle of the floor.

"AGH, not zhe neck you idiot!" Medic pushed Demoman away from him and massaged his throat, though really it hadn't pulled tightly enough to hurt too much, then stepped inside by himself without answering. "Herr ozer Medic? Are you all vight?" he hissed.

No response from the BLU Medic, other than a weak sort of splatting sound, and something that sounded like 'blub blub'.

"BLU?" RED Medic said, sounding a bit more alarmed. He edged his way inside, sticking close to the wall, and prodded at the ground around himself occasionally with his foot. Then he gasped.

"EVERYONE! BLU MEDIC IS SINKING INTO ZHE FLOOR!" He knelt down and reached forward, trying to grab one of BLU's arms.

"Whot?" Demoman leaned forward. The light was abruptly eclipsed by the worried bulk of the BLU Heavy.

"Where is safe to step?" he asked. "Demoman, Doktor, back away. I will do this."

"Keep to zhe vall!" Medic told him anxiously. "He is sinking very quickly!"

"Da!"

RED Medic winced as the front of his boots sank just a little into the floor. "Zhere is very little floor to valk on!" he warned. "If you are not fast you may haff to fish me out as vell!"

The Heavy grabbed RED Medic and pulled him out of the doorway, practically hurling him out of the way.

"Ach!" RED Medic stumbled and brushed his front off, scowling.

The Heavy inched in through the door. He poked at the substance carefully. "Oh," he said. "Know how to deal with this. Someone make sure to hold onto feet." With that, he stretched out over the treacherous bit of floor, making himself as flat as possible. He managed to get a hand around BLU Medic's arm and with a shouted order to Demoman to pull, started to drag the Medic to safety.

RED Medic, the Snipers, and the Soldiers gathered and helped hold onto Demo and Heavy.

"Doktor, we will need medigun," said Heavy. The two of them came free with a revolting sucking sound, BLU Medic limp and covered in muck.

RED Medic nodded hurriedly and pulled out the hose of his Kritzkrieg. He aimed and fired, letting the beam wash over his BLU counterpart.

BLU Medic stirred, groaned, then turned over and coughed up an impressive quantity of sediment.

RED Medic sighed. "Very good. Now if you could please get up off zhe ground, vhe need to continue."

"How?" gasped BLU Medic. "Zhe damn floor-"

And the RED Heavy, who had been absent from the scene for a bit, coughed. Discreetly. And hoisted aloft a plank.

"...zhat vould vork quite vell," RED Medic.

"Good," said Miss Pauling. "Once we're inside, I'll have to leave you to take care of the central section of the building and the personnel there, including the clones of myself and the Administrator; I will be attempting to disable some of the security systems from another area. Don't go charging ahead into traps, don't pick up anything that seems shiny, and most importantly, keep stupidity to a minimum. Good luck."

RED Medic scowled at the insults, but really he and maybe the Heavies were the only level-headed ones present. Well... the Demomen weren't drunk so they were more or less competent. Still, the Soldiers were bad enough.

"DO YOU CALL THAT A TRAP? MY GRANNY'S OATMEAL WAS BETTER QUICKSAND THAN THAT! AAAUGH MY BOOT IT IS STUCK IN THE QUICKSAND!"

Miss Pauling stepped over the plank and vanished into an air duct, and they were alone. BLU Medic drew the syringe gun and, making sure to stay behind the BLU Heavy, followed.

"I do not see zhis going vell," he remarked under his breath to the RED Medic.

"It vill go better zhan us staying behind und haffing zhe entire mission fail," RED muttered back.

"Ja. Zhat is true. But I don't-"

"LOOK OUT!" RED Soldier stumbled back into BLU Medic as a large spiked metal plate crashed down in front of him. It didn't look like anyone got caught under it, but it had been a narrow escape nonetheless.

"Zhe lawyer's fees for zhat must be incredible," said BLU Medic, and poked it with a foot. It didn't move. "Come on."


	28. Chapter 28

**In which TF Industries' security measures make as much sense as most things from Mann Co. ie, none. Can you tell we had far too much time writing this...? (Standard disclaimer)**

There were several other close calls as they worked their way through the labyrinthine air duct system. Lasers, turret guns, flamethrowers, even one incredibly improbable situation featuring a swarm of killer bees and syran wrap. But they managed to get out of it all right with nothing worse than a few scrapes, burns, blisters, and in the case of the BLU Heavy, a singularly unfortunate set of stings.

"Zhere's zhe Engineers," said BLU Medic at long last, poking his head out of a vent and narrowly avoiding the blade that snapped at his nose. "Herr Soldier, could you remove zhat trap, please?" He moved back.

BLU Soldier shoved the others aside (there was a good deal of irritated grumbling at this) and without warning anyone first let off a rocket at the blade. It came off.

"Great, now I am going to be deaf und scarred for life by zhis ordeal," RED Medic grumbled.

"...danke," said BLU Medic. He was pretty sure he didn't have eyebrows anymore. "Zhere's quite a drop..."

"For little Doktors, da." RED Heavy clambered to the edge and looked down. Setting his jaw, he gripped the edge and slowly lowered himself over. There were still a good few feet between his feet and the ground, but it was clear that he'd been right. The fall wouldn't be nearly as bad for someone of his height.

With an "oof!" he dropped to the ground, took a step back, and grinned up at them. "Come now, I vill catch you!"

BLU Medic glanced back at his Heavy, who gave a little shrug. The Medic then eased himself out of the vent and hung there, feeling like an idiot, for some seconds before he got up the guts to let go of the edges.

RED Heavy caught him easily enough and put him to one side. "Everyone out of the vent! Fall is not that far!"

RED Medic grimaced but followed suit. Soon enough the entire team was out of the vent.

"Hey, da rest are here! Yo, Engie, wake da fuck up!"

"Of course it is zhe Scout," muttered BLU Medic, as the RED Scout came around the corner of the sentry, yammering.

"Man, you would not _believe_ da shit that's in that corridor! Cockroaches, man, bigger den da ones at home! BIG FUCKING COCKROACHES, MAN. How'd ya do? Bet it was easier!"

"Bees," BLU Sniper snapped. "An' just about everything else in the bloody world they could think ta throw at us." He grimaced and shook his head. "BEES. Wot sadistic idiot thought puttin' bees in an air vent was a good idea?"

RED Sniper shuddered slightly in agreement.

"Bees didn't get you," said BLU Heavy, who was still a little swelled up. The Medigun had done wonders.

"Ja, vell, no von is fatally injured. Please, let's continue."

They left the tank with one of the Engineers and a Pyro and went, first cautiously, then with very little caution whatsoever, into the bowels of the building. And there was nothing. No staff. No bodies. No traps. No cameras, even. Nothing.

"I do not like this," said BLU Medic, peering into yet another empty office. "Not at all. Zhe potted plant, even, is still here."

RED Soldier frowned. "MAYBE THE POTTED PLANT IS A CLUE! WHAT KIND OF PLANT IS IT?"

"...I think tha' last blast rattled yer brains a bit," BLU Demo said flatly. "But I dinnae like it either."

"WE SHOULD INTERROGATE IT TO BE SURE."

RED Engineer frowned thoughtfully. "Well... think they expected us to make it in here? Maybe they had time to evacuate first."

"Or we're walking inta a trap," said BLU Demoman.

"I zhink zhat it vould haff hit us in zhe face vith bumblebees by now if zhat vere zhe case," said BLU Medic.

Both Soldiers threw themselves to the floor. BLU Sniper blinked down at them in bemusement. "What d'ya think you- ERK!"

RED Soldier had jerked him down to the floor too and clamped a hand over his mouth. "THEY ARE PROBABLY GOING TO SPRING THE BEES AT ANY MINUTE NOW," he half-shouted, half-hissed. "IF YOU LADIES KNOW WHAT'S GOOD FOR YOU, YOU WILL JOIN US ON THE FLOOR!"

RED Sniper looked nervously around as though he might follow suit. BLU Demoman rolled his eye. "Fer cryin' out loud, ye can' expect us t' believe tha'."

BLU Medic sighed. "By zhat, I meant zhere vas not a trap..."

BLU Heavy snorted. "Silly men. Should listen more carefully to Doktor."

"WE ARE NOT SILLY," RED Soldier growled as he and BLU got up. BLU Sniper shoved the Soldier from him with a scowl before brushing himself off.

"Well, what now?" BLU Engineer asked with a slight frown.

There was a sound of footsteps getting rapidly closer, and RED Spy came around the corner, decloaking as he went. "Ze security systems are offline now," he said. "Bleu is coming-zere was one door zat-_merde_-that proved difficult."

RED Medic frowned. "Are you both all right zhen?" he asked.

"How'd the door hold you up? Was it just locked, or were there traps?" BLU Engineer put in.

"Do not ask," said the Spy with a delicate shudder.

BLU Spy decloaked next to him. "Oui. It does not bear mentioning."

"Bet it was spoiders," RED Sniper murmured to RED Engineer, who concealed his smile as best as he could.

"Don't go antagonizin' 'em about it," Engineer replied. "I still remember when their Spah left you hogtied in the battlements after you dominated him."

Sniper's smile vanished. "Disproportionate retribution, that's what that was."

"Indeed," BLU Spy said loudly, "except you were forgoing your job simply to target me. And you put one of those..._things_ in my cigarette case."

"Agh, all of ye shut yer traps." RED Demoman rubbed his head. "Wot d'you lot say we do next?"

"We should be near the main offices, but we didn't want to go in alone," said the BLU Spy. "Too much of a possibility of very nasty surprises. Including more of...of the same that we already found."

"Coward," sneered the RED Scout and was clonked upside the head by the RED Spy.

"Just because some of us 'ave sense..." he said.

"Ja, I agree vith zhe Spies," RED Medic said promptly. "Vhe should examine zhe main offices if possible, but zhere is no need for anyvon to venture off by zhemselves. Vhich direction should vhe try first?" he asked the Spies.

"This way," said RED, and started back the way he'd come.

The Heavies, Soldiers, Snipers, Demomen, Scouts, Engineers, Medics, and Pyros all followed suit, making sure to be as quiet as a large group with weapons and heavy boots could.

"That it?" RED Engineer whispered as he looked to a set of large glass doors.

The BLU Spy nodded. "I think there is someone in there," he said. "I did not see them move."

"Well then, wha are yeh waitin' fer?" said the BLU Demoman. The BLU Spy shrugged, poked a button on the keypad, and stepped smartly back as the doors swooshed open. He looked inside, and his face went still.

"I think this is one for you, Docteur," he said after a moment.


	29. Chapter 29

**In which things get worse. Standard disclaimer. **

* * *

RED Medic exchanged a quick glance with BLU before starting toward the doors. "Vhat is it?" he asked a bit sharply. "Who is in zhere?"

BLU Medic followed, stepped further into the room than RED and stopped. And swallowed hard. "I hope to Gott zhat is zhe clone," he said very quietly.

"Vell... eizer vay I doubt zhere is anyzhing vhe can do." RED Medic knelt beside the prone figure of the Administrator to take a pulse. After a moment he shook his head.

There was a murmur behind them as the teams craned to get a better look, one that quickly turned horrified as people saw what was there.

BLU Medic moved forward. "Any sign of vhat it vas? Zhere's no blood-not violent, zhen."

"No, nozhing like zhat... but look at zhe position of he cadaver." RED Medic stood up, head to one side. "Odd position, on von's face, vith zhe arms splayed out like zho. Actually... could you check zhe mouth?"

BLU Medic did as told. "Ah," he said. "A seizure-zhe tounge is obstructing the airway. Bitten, I zhink. Neurological problems?"

"Ja." RED Medic grinned; he couldn't help himself. "Und of course ZHAT points to some sort of preexistent neurological weakness, ja? Vhich vould mean..."

"Zhat it's zhe clone. Have you got a scalpel? Ve can check zhe ventral cluster _here_-zhe Heavy-clone had it..."

"Alvays." RED casually pulled a scalpel handle and a blade still in its packaging from his pocket, then handed both to BLU.

"Excellent." BLU made an incision in the corpse's arm, and peered at it. "Ja, look zhere. One of zhe relays zhere."

"Ha, zhen vhe vere right. It seems our decapitated friend has been doing some very shoddy vork all around." RED Medic turned smugly to the Spies. "Zhis is only a clone, as you have heard."

"Merde," BLU Spy said flatly.

RED Spy nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. RED Medic's smile lessened just slightly. "Was ist los?"

"There are some very unfortunate implications that can be made if indeed this is a clone of the Administrator," BLU Spy replied. "Namely, that they definitely have clones of people besides _us_."

"Vell... yes, but zhat vas obvious from zhe-"

"Mon Dieu, just THINK about that for a moment," RED Spy snapped. "Think about who ELSE they might 'ave cloned!"

RED Medic's face was blank for a moment. Then he paled. "... mein Gott."

"Vell, zhey break down..." ventured BLU Medic. He stood up. "In any case, vhat next? Do we seize control of zhe recording machines and tell zhe vorld zhat zhere vas a hostile takeover? Zhat ve intend no destruction?"

"I think we'll need Miss Pauling or the real Administrator for that," said the BLU Engineer.

"Indeed," said RED Spy. "And who is to say that they will believe us if we do tell them?"

"Well we need ta do SOMETHIN'," BLU Demo put in.

"Ja," said BLU Medic. "Ve can try. Ve already have zhe entire United States army on zhe doorstep. Can it get vorse? _Really_?"

BLU Pyro groaned and put her head in her hand. "Hurrf huff hu hurrf huff..." (Now you've said it...)

RED Medic gave BLU a disapproving look before turning to the others. "My advice is zhat vhe regroup vith zhe ozers as quickly as possible und try to find a vay out of zhis mess. Coming here has accomplished very little, unfortunately."

"Ozzah zhan doing zhe army's vork for zhem," said BLU Medic.

The BLU Spy crossed his arms and peered at the bank of computers. "What we will need to do is find Miss Pauling and then have her be the one to make the announcement. Quite evidently, one of us doing so in the Administrator's place will have little credibility, but Miss Pauling will carry rather more authority. Besides—" he tapped the side of one of the computers, "I would not care to attempt to access these without the proper codes. I strongly doubt that the security systems here are any more benign than those on the building itself."

"Indeed," RED Spy said as he turned toward the door. Suddenly he paused. "Can any of you... smell something?"

BLU Spy let out a cry and threw himself forward toward the door. At the same time both Engineers and RED Demo joined him. All had their hands clamped on the edge of the door, which was resolutely sliding shut.

RED Medic looked up to a set of 'speakers' in alarm, a suspicion entering his mind. Sure enough, a greenish-yellow gas was filtering in.

"CHLORINE! ZHEY ARE GOING TO POISON US VITH CHLORINE?!"


	30. Chapter 30

**In which great thought is given to painkillers and the trustworthiness of medical suppliers in the TF2 universe. Sorry for lateness, guys! Standard disclaimer!**

"Get out!" BLU Medic gave his counterpart a shove toward the door. "Go on, everyone, out!"

BLU Spy squeezed past the others as the rest of the teams realized what was happening. Everyone did their best to keep their grip on the door. RED Medic got out after the spy, followed by the RED Spy. The Spy spun around.

"Come on!" he shouted to BLU Medic as he cleared the door.

BLU Medic would have made it, but tripped over a flaccid leg. He steadied himself, but lost time-he wouldn't be able to make it now-

And the BLU Engineer was between the doors, wedging them open with a boot on each. He leaned his weight hard against the door with his shoulder, the others still clinging where they could. "Get movin' doc, dammit!" His frame was starting to shake.

BLU Medic dove through small opening. "Danke Herr Conhager-"

BLU Engineer didn't wait to hear what else the Medic had to say. Everyone threw themselves back from the doorway. And then there was a sickening crunch, and a shout. The Engineer was on his back, leg caught in the door, teeth gritted in obvious pain.

"Could... could someone pry that thing offa my leg, please?" he managed.

The BLU Medic was the first to the doors, throwing his weight against one of them. The BLU Heavy shoved him out of the way, almost casually, and took his place. The door budged a little, and the BLU Medic managed to drag the Engineer clear.

Engineer sighed and laid his head back against the floor. "You'd think after gettin' blown up and stabbed in the back so much I'd be more used to pain," he mumbled. "Think y'all could patch me up right quick doc?"

"Just a moment," said the BLU Medic, and trained the medigun on the Engineer.

And nothing happened.

BLU Medic tried again, then when it still didn't work, slung the pack off his shoulders and popped open a panel. And stared in horror.

RED Engineer frowned. "Need me to take a look at it?" he offered while BLU Engineer cursed very quietly under his breath. He must have been in a good deal of pain.

RED Medic sighed and trained his Medigun on the Engineer as his counterpart had done. He had the same results.

"Aaaagh, was ist los?" He shook the gun portion and looked into the end.

"Do," said BLU Medic handing the medigun over. "I do have some painkillers," he told the Engineer. "Zhey vill take a bit of time, but-" he reached into a pocket on his belt and pulled out one, "It's better zhan zhe current situation."

BLU Engineer grimaced but offered the Medic his arm, hoping very fervently that was where the needle was supposed to go. "Mind lookin' at it in case that fancy gun of yours is outta commission for a while?"

RED Engineer looked into the open pack and frowned. "...this is kinda weird. Everything's all fried, like it's been struck by lightning or-"

"Or sapped?" BLU Engie said dryly. He pointed to a large black box on the ceiling.

BLU Medic jammed the needle in with more efficiency than caution, and turned his attention to the leg the moment the plunger was fully depressed. He examined it as the Engineer floated off on a cloud of drugs.

RED Engineer looked up at the device and tilted his helmet back. "Well I'll be damned..."

"But... but you can FIX it can't you?" RED Medic asked, shaking the hose of his medipack in a rather distressed fashion.

"Not without the right tools, replacement parts, and time. Y'all built it anyways, so I'd need to have your blueprints with me." RED Engie sighed. "We'll just have to make do without the guns for now I guess."

BLU Engineer, meanwhile, had leaned completely back against the floor, a funny dazed sort of smile on his face. It was hard to tell if he was awake or not, given his goggles.

RED Medic shook his head and turned to his BLU counterpart. "How bad is zhe leg? Fractured, I'm sure."

"Badly," said BLU Medic. "It's a miracle that none of zhe bones have punctured zhe skin. Zhere are at least four distinct breaks. If I cannot get him under zhe medigun in zhe next day or so, I doubt he vill regain full use of zhe leg."

"Good thing he's stoned offa his nut then," RED Engie said dryly. "I don't think he'd like to hear that he might be crippled."

"Sure wouldn't," BLU Engineer said with a wheeze of a laugh. "Man Doc, have y'all noticed how funny the ceiling is here? It's all white, and then... it's not some places. Like waves or somethin'."

"Yes, I'm sure it is Herr Engineer," RED Medic said snippily. "Now zhe real question is how to mobilize him vithout making his condition worse, und how to keep him from getting caught in crossfire if and vhen it occurs? If vhe CAN set zhe bone, vhe could make a splint, but as it is zhis bad he still shouldn't put any veight on it."

"Ve should splint it anyvay. It vill keep it from flopping around. As for transport, one of zhe Heavies could carry him; I don't see anyzhing zhat could serve as a stretcher here." BLU Medic looked down at the Engineer. "I vill have to order more of zhat. It's very effective."

"And where will we be moving to?" said RED Spy drily. "Miss Pauling has vanished and there is no one here to stop."

RED Medic shrugged. "Outside? But he is your teammate Herr Doktor, if you vould like to splint zhe leg."

BLU Engineer kept reaching up toward the ceiling like he was trying to grab the fluorescent light. RED Medic couldn't help but smile slightly. "Vhere do you purchase your painkillers anyvyas?"

"I cannot remember zhe name, but zhey make shower curtains." BLU looked at the leg for a while, wondering what could be used as a splint. He caught the eye of the BLU Heavy. "If you could break zhe leg off of zhat chair?"

"Da." Heavy stooped over a wooden chair that looked like it was quite expensive and snapped the leg off like it was a toothpick. "Here doktor."

RED Medic looked thoughtful. "I might actually invest in better painkillers, if it vould keep zhe patients from being so vhiny."

RED Sniper rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, but he didn't say anything out loud.

"Oh, zhey're quite effective," said BLU Medic. "Especially for experiments of a more...unusual sort." He held out a hand. "Bandages, Herr Doktor?"

The RED Spy glared at him.

"Unusual?" RED Medic smiled slightly. "You are talking about zhe, ah..." He glanced at RED Spy, who just happened to be standing near BLU Scout. "Nevermind." He pulled the roll of bandages from his pocket and tossed them to BLU Medic. "Do you zhink you vill ve able to set zhe bones?"

"Possibly, but zhe important thing is to keep zhem immobile." The BLU Medic began to splint the bone. "It is a good zhing he is so out of it just now. Zhis vould involve a lot of viggling ozzahvise."

"Vell yes." RED Medic watched thoughtfully as his counterpart splinted Engineer's leg. The Engineer had given up on the lights and seemed like he was dozing off.

"Can you move any faster doc?" RED Scout asked, sounding antsy. "What if they come back?"

"Vhat if _vhat_ comes back?" said BLU Medic, acidly.

"I dunno, the creepy government people and their clone army maybe?!"

"What, you scared of those creeps?" BLU Scout replied with a smirk.

"Psh, no, but I don't wanna let 'em catch us off guard either."

"Why don't you fellers settle down and we'll let the doc finish his knittins?" RED Engineer said mildly.

BLU Medic tied the bandage off. "Ve can go."

BLU Heavy stooped down and put the now unconscious Engineer over his shoulder, careful not to jar his splinted leg.

"Ja, very good." RED Medic glanced one way down the hall and then the other. "Vhere is zhe exit anyvays?"

"Zhe vay ve came?" suggested BLU Medic.

RED Medic looked up at the air vent. BLU Sniper frowned and shook his head.

"Nah. There's gotta be a way back that ain't through killer bees."

"I vas more vorried about how vhe vould get zhe Engineer zhrough vithout jarring zhat leg more than necessary."

"Ja. Zhe sentry, zhen?"

RED Engineer hesitated. "Yeah, that could work," he said slowly. "I'll need someone else to help me run it though. Takes two people to operate, see."

"I will," said BLU Demoman, grinning.

RED Engineer hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "All right. Yeah, that'll work. Come on." He walked over to where the vent was and paused. "Could you give me a boost, partner?"

The BLU Demoman obliged. "I would ha thought tha a man with yer brains would ha learnt how ta get taller," he said.

Engineer snorted slightly at Demoman helped him up. "And I'd-a thought a man with one eye would-a learned not to throw explosives around while he was drunk as a skunk."

"It isna like I'm incompetent," said Demoman mildly, scrambling up after him. "I bet ye're just envious. It isna as if ye're able to build ona ye're wee pepper-pots a death sloshed, aye?"

"I suppose that bickering is a step up from all out violence," RED Spy said to BLU, who nodded.

"Nah. The stuff I build when I'm 'sloshed' ain't exactly approved for the field. A little dangerous, see." Engineer smiled slightly. "I don't get drunk too much though. Like to keep on top-a things, see."

"Vell, I suppose now vhe... vait?" RED Medic looked to the others.

The head of the Demoman reappeared. "Aye. We'll be back in two ticks!"

"Aw c'mon, man! That line's in like, every horror movie ever!"

"Good thing this ain't a horror movie then, huh son?" Engineer's laugh reverberated out of the vent. "See y'all later."

"It isn't?" said BLU Medic, under his breath. "Zhat's news to me..."

BLU Scout plonked himself down on the floor and started tossing his baseball around.

It was quiet and still for a while as they waited. Then BLU Engineer let out a soft groan from the Heavy's shoulder. "...turn off th' thunder, 'm tryin' t' sleep..."

RED Sniper frowned. "Anyone else feel that?" he asked. The ground seemed to be shaking very, very slightly.


	31. Chapter 31

**A contemplation on security measures... You know the deal with disclaimers. Consider this one. Also, has anyone noticed how weird it is that Miss Pauling doesn't have hats? None of the ladies have hats in the comics. Not fair. **

A little dust sifted from the ceiling. BLU Medic looked up. "Did zhey start zhe attack?"

And then the enormous sentry-tank burst through one of the walls.

"Agh!" RED Medic jumped back in fear while both Snipers and the RED Demoman scrambled in the same direction, cursing under their breath. RED Heavy just blinked in surprise.

"Vell. Zhat's a certain improvement. Herr Heavy, a little assistance vith zhe Engineer?"

BLU Heavy nodded and shifted the Engineer's weight on his shoulder. "I have Engineer, Doktor."

The hatch opened, and the other Engineer popped his head out. "Y'all ready?"

"Yes," said several voices, and then everything _ really_ shook, a few of the ceiling tiles thudding down around them. The floor bucked and shook.

"Get zhe Engineer into zhe tank!"

"MMMMPHMMMPINNG!"

Everything shook again.

"MOVE IT MAGGOTS! THEY'RE BOMBING US!"

"Miss Pauling!" That was the Scout, pointing to a small, purple figure making her way toward them, a ceiling tile held aloft to protect her head from debris.

BLU Heavy turned slightly as he lifted the Engineer toward the hatch as gently as he could for the other to haul up. "PAULING, IS US! SOMEONE GET PAULING!"

RED Medic grimaced and turned to the Scout. "Could you make sure she gets here safely?" he asked hurriedly.

Scout nodded and bolted off to help. Not actually having the mass to get away with heroically carrying her to safety, (even _if_ Miss Pauling would have permitted it, unlikely), he settled for catching her by the arm and pulling her along after him.

Miss Pauling, who had been doing perfectly well on her own, tolerated it.

"SCHNELL!" RED Medic shouted as they all huddled around the base of the sentry. Engineer said there wasn't enough room to fit everyone inside, but it did provide shelter from most of the debris. As soon as Scout and Pauling got close enough RED Medic took her pulse.

"Are you all right? Any obvious external injuries?" he asked.

She shook her head. "This was a trap. We need to get out of here."

"Is there anyone else here?" asked one of the Spies.

Another headshake. "Only the clones. They're dead by now."

The building shook again. "Can't this thing go faster?" demanded one of the Scouts.

"I'm workin' on it, hold your horses!" came RED Engineer's voice. "I'm tryin' not to compromise the building's structure any more than I already have. Didn't account for a bombing."

RED Medic nodded firmly at Pauling's words and got as close to the sentry-tank as he could. "You are sheltering us vell enough, please just go a bit faster!" he shouted.

"I said I'm WORKIN' on it!"

Half the ceiling behind them collapsed. RED Demoman swore under his breath. "There isna going ta be a building's structure ta compromise if ye dinna hurry it up!" he called.

"Don't worry Engineer," said BLU Heavy, sternly. "Has enough to worry."

Engineer would have given BLU Heavy a grateful look if he weren't busy messing with the controls, BLU Demo at his side. It did speed up marginally.

"...all right, everyone hang tight and stick close! I'm gonna start accelerating, so y'all need to move with me, got it?"

Now, with the bombs and the tank, the building was bidding fair to shake itself to pieces. The team kept as close as they could, mostly concentrating on staying close to the giant rumbling machine.

RED Scout saw a flash of purple out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

"Hey, everyone, there's a second—" But whatever he was going to say was broken off in a short scream.

Normally RED Medic would have rolled his eyes and muttered something insulting about Scout's intelligence, but this time he looked over sharply and carefully picked his way to where he'd fallen. "Herr Scout?" he asked.

"Do I need to stop?" Engineer shouted.

The Scout was on the ground, hands scrabbling at his back to staunch the blood from a stab wound in his back. He looked up at the Medic, shock and pain in his eyes. "She stabbed me!"

Miss Pauling had been walking behind Scout. She'd vanished around the other side of the tank. RED Medic looked up. There was a second Miss Pauling running toward them, flamethrower across her back, covered in soot and dust.

RED Medic's face went from flushed with exertion to the color of oatmeal in a matter of seconds. "ACHTUNG, ANYVON! SHE'S NOT ZHE REAL PAULING! APPREHEND HER!" Without looking up to see who'd listened, he pulled up the back of Scout's shirt and began examining the wound. "Ach, zhis is not good... I don't zhink anyzhing VITAL vas hit but it could cause complications... Stay very still, I vill try to staunch zhe bleeding for now. HEAVY! EIZER OV YOU! I REQUIRE ASSISTANCE!"

Meanwhile, both Soldiers charged around the tank with shouts of anger. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING, MISS NOT-PAULING?!"

"I BET SHE'S NOT EVEN A REAL CLONE!"

"YEAH, YOU'RE NOT EVEN A REAL CLONE ARE YOU MISS COMRADE?!"

The clone dodged around the Soldiers and made for a control panel on the wall. She slapped her palm down on it. Something went beep. An expression of relief crossed her face just before she ducked out of the way of the RED Heavy.

The BLU Heavy came around the back of the tank. "Need to carry leetle Scout?" he said.

Clone-Pauling managed to get a shot off at the Medic before the RED Heavy caught her from behind and twisted the gun out of her hands. She slammed an elbow into his stomach. He clonked her upside the head, and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

"Ja, just let me- AGH!" Medic grabbed his shoulder as clone-Pauling's bullet tore through the muscle. A spot of blood blossomed over the white material. He swore quietly under his breath and staggered to his feet. "O-on second thought, yes, pick him up. I vill look vhen vhe are safe."

The other Miss Pauling's voice cut through the tumult, something precious near a shriek. "Move! The walls—!"

The walls shifted. Two sections came down from the ceiling in front and behind them. They moved fast—Miss Pauling threw herself into a slide to get under the one behind them.

The walls crunched to a standstill, sealing off the section of corridor. Miss Pauling pushed herself to her feet, somewhat bloodier and her glasses askew. "Don't fire," she said. "They're blastproof. Supposed to contain intruders like us."

"What about the tank?" said RED Engineer.

"Even the tank," said Miss Pauling. "You're welcome to try driving into the wall, but it won't do much."

"The ceiling?"

There was a clatter from above them.

"Reinforced." That was the BLU Spy. When Miss Pauling looked askance at him, he shrugged. "Personnel files were not ze only thing I examined. On ze positive side, zey will not be able to collapse ze building on us."

"Good," said RED Medic. Miss Pauling got to her feet and made for the panel. She placed her hand over it the same way the clone had. It beeped, and a section of wall slid back to reveal a keypad. She entered a number.

The buzz was ear-aching.

"They changed the code," she said.


	32. Chapter 32

**In which there is a heck of a lot of Pauling-drama. Which isn't, actually, a contradiction in terms. We swear. **

**Standard disclaimer.**

"So we're trapped?" The BLU Scout eyed the walls.

"Yes," said RED Spy.

Miss Pauling went over to the Medics. They were unpacking various things from their pockets and the tank, setting up a makeshift hospital to attend to the Scout and Engineer.

"What happened?"

"Zhe Engineer has a fractured leg, und zhe Scout vas stabbed by your clone," said BLU Medic. "Zhe RED Medic is also injured, und refusing treatment."

"Zhe blood loss is negligible," said RED Medic. BLU gave him a quick glare.

"Zhe clone has a mild concussion," he went on, nodding at where Clone-Pauling lay, guarded by the BLU Heavy. "She should do perfectly vell, zhough."

"I-I see," said Miss Pauling, her eyes on the clone. "Very good." She retreated rapidly. The BLU Spy, who'd watched the whole encounter, straightened up and followed her.

"What is it?" he said, when they'd gotten out of the middle of things.

"I would prefer not to talk about it." Miss Pauling's mouth set and she stared resolutely at the wall.

"You do not like the clone?" Spy lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course I don't!" Her voice went sharper than she'd intended it to, and she looked away again. "That someone made...made _that_ without my permission, stuffed its head full of _my _memories, and _used _it like this—" She broke off, hands clenching, angry that she'd let him see her so upset.

"I had much the same reaction when I first encountered RED, here," said the Spy, leaning back against the wall and lighting a cigarette.

"If you'd read the fine print of your contract, you would have seen it was provided for. Mine had no such clause."

"Indeed," said Spy.

There was a sudden commotion from where the Medics had set up shop, clattering and rapidly yelled medical terminology, BLU Medic's voice rising clearly over it to say, "Keep zhe airvay clear! If ve lose her—"

"In any case, she probably will not survive much longer," said Spy.

"Good." Miss Pauling leaned against the wall and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"For your peace of mind, perhaps."

Now Miss Pauling did look at him. "Get to the point, Spy."

He lifted the cigarette away from his lips and contemplated it with interest. "Well," he said after a while, "We do need to get out of this little trap. And she has the codes."

"And?"

"You are her. She is you." Spy stubbed out the cigarette and gave Miss Pauling a very sharp look. "You know better than anyone what would persuade her to assist us. You could talk to her. Convince her to defect. It can be done. Look at the Medics."

Miss Pauling stared at him. "You must be joking. The Medics—"

BLU Medic came around the corner, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. "Zhere isn't much time," he said. "She is conscious, but the neural degeneration has been exacerbated by zhe concussion. If ve are to get out of here, ve'll need to ask now."

"Someone else ought to. I will make things worse."

"And since when do you listen to any of us?" said Spy. He leaned forward. "Indulge your indignation later, Miss Pauling. Right now, there are nineteen lives depending on your ability to put it aside and talk yourself into defecting."

"I—"

Spy let out a disappointed breath. "And here, I thought you were a _professional._"

"We will discuss this later." Miss Pauling pushed away from the wall and started toward the tank. "Where is she?"

* * *

The clone stared up at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, breathing shallowly. Miss Pauling knelt in front of her and cleared her throat nervously.

The clone looked at her. "What do...do you want?" she rasped.

"The code."

The clone snorted and turned her head away.

Miss Pauling cleared her throat again. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded.

"Because of Agatha."

"Agatha."

The clone looked at her and made a little rasping noise like a chuckle. "You...you really hate me, don't you," she said. "One more sister...to compete with. Who's better than you."

BLU Medic, in the act of tying off a bandage around his counterpart's arm, looked up with interest. Miss Pauling glared at him. He looked away.

"Agatha's always been better, hasn't she. Taller, prettier—"

"How is this relevant—"

The clone gave her a sharp look. "No interrupting."

Miss Pauling glared at her.

"She can actually talk about her job at Thanksgiving," said the clone. "She has a fiance who could buy her an island if she wanted."

"I could buy an island if I wanted," muttered Miss Pauling.

"You haven't had a boyfriend since your senior year of high school, if you can count that pimply moron who took you to prom as a boyfriend. It was probably out of pity."

The Scout and the Pyro were now looking interestedly over Medic's shoulder. Miss Pauling was bright red and fighting not to strike the clone.

"So if someone offered you a way to become a hero, a hero in the open, not the shadows, wouldn't you take it?" The clone looked up at her. "If someone told you to take down a huge, corrupt corporation that was controlling the government, wouldn't you take it? Agatha might be beautiful and have a rich boyfriend, but she could never be a national hero."

"This is about Agatha?" Miss Pauling stared at her clone. "All of this?"

The clone started to respond, but was cut off by a yelp from RED Medic as his counterpart jammed a large syringe into his biceps.

"Vhat vas zhat?"

"An antibiotic."

RED Medic frowned. "I do not know zhat it is strictly necessary," he said.

"I vould like to err on zhe side of caution," said BLU Medic, blissfully oblivious to the conversation going on behind him.

"Yes, but... agh, overusing antibiotics is how vhe get strains of resistant bacteria, is it not? It is better not to use it unless necessary." RED eased slightly away from his BLU companion.

BLU sighed and put the needle away. "Don't complain to me vhen you contract gas gangrene."

"Do you _mind?_" Miss Pauling cleared her throat, glaring at the two of them.

"Oh." The Medics had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Look at it this way," the clone said. "It's better than babysitting these idiots for the rest of your life."

Miss Pauling looked back at the idiots, who were still blatantly eavesdropping, then at the clone. "You're joking," she said flatly. "You launched _all this_ because you thought you were envious of Agatha and her boyfriend? Can you get any more stereotypical and _pathetic_? You've decided to throw away everything I've worked for because you want to...to what, exactly? Find some moronic hunk to pay your way? Have children?" She leaned forward. The clone leaned away.

"I got over that stupid rivalry when Agatha dropped out of college," Miss Pauling snarled. "I work to keep two of the biggest companies in the world from blowing said world up, and I will NOT have some shoddy, starry-eyed copy of me ruining everything because she wants to be like my _sister_. That moron she's wooing is as stupid as a sack of bricks—any of the men here could think circles around him."

There was a delighted sound from the uninjured Scout.

"That wasn't a compliment," said Miss Pauling, not looking away from the clone.

"I thought…" started the clone, and trailed off. "I don't remember Agatha dropping out."

"Modified memories," said RED Medic, sounding interested. "Exactly like us-zhey're getting razzah better…"

"She did," said Miss Pauling, and stood. "So. Petty vendetta or save the world, Pauling? I hope you know what will happen with RED and BLU should their mercenaries vanish."

The clone sat there and stared at her hands. Then she looked up. "...They've stopped firing," she said.

Sure enough, there was silence.


	33. Chapter 33

**In which things get worse. Grant proposals are evil. Just putting that out there.** ** Standard disclaimer. **

"Oh hell," said Miss Pauling. "The code, now."

"They have the codes," said the clone. "If there's no gunfire, they're in the building."

Miss Pauling pulled the flamethrower off her back, checked the fuel. "I want everyone in defensible positions, now," she snapped.

The teams scurried to obey.

There was a wait of maybe ten minutes, then the walls and the ceiling began to retreat, slowly.

"There's almost nothing left…" said RED Demoman, staring at the ruins of the building. Aside from their section of corridor, the only thing that remained was the Administrator's office. The TVs, however, still appeared to be fully functional.

"That's not our biggest problem," said BLU Scout. He was looking past them, at the hill behind the parking lot. "Guys, um...I think we're all totally screwed."

The hill was covered in men and various armaments.

"Fess..." RED Medic said with a sigh. He clambered to his feet and pulled out his syringe gun. "Again?"

The sentry-tank's mounted gun swiveled toward the approaching army.

The colonel they'd taken hostage was in the forefront with a loudspeaker, with another man next to him-probably the same one who'd sapped Miss Pauling's car earlier.

"YOU ARE SURROUNDED." A squeal of feedback, a loud tapping noise as he rapped a finger against the pickup and then raised it to his mouth again. "SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR WE WILL HAVE TO USE DEADLY FORCE."

There really wasn't much cover to be had. There wasn't enough time to make a dash back into what remained of the building, and they were surrounded on three sides. BLU Medic checked the Scout's pulse-even enough, but the boy wasn't likely to be much use. BLU Engineer was still unconscious...and there was no place big enough to shelter the both of them, let alone the clone of Miss Pauling.

He looked up and met RED Medic's eyes, hoping his colleague had an idea.

RED Medic's eyes darted to the tank, to the army of men in front of them, and back to BLU. He shook his head. "Zhere is no vinning zhis one," he murmured, sounding defeated. "Perhaps... perhaps if zhe army is involved, vhe can keep you und zhe ozers from..." RED didn't finish the sentence. He didn't want to think about what might happen to the clones if he was wrong.

"Ve'll be prisoners of var, von't ve?" said BLU with a crooked little smile. "Zhey have standards. Ve von't be killed on zhe spot. As it is..." He looked up at the tank. "It von't do much good, vill it."

"Sometimes zhere are standards." RED Medic gulped, then shook his head rapidly. "Nein, it vill not end vell if we resist. But vhe haff faced worse zhan being prisoners of zhis government, I am sure." He forced a rather stiff smile, then turned to the others. "Stand down. Vhe must surrender."

Miss Pauling nodded. "It should be possible to negotiate," she said, with such conviction that it was clear she was putting up a front. "We have the clone. You should at least be spared the worst of the bureaucracy; when you are questioned, you will say that you were operating under my orders the entire time. It should keep you out of the worst of it."

And with that, she put down her own gun and called back, "We surrender!"

BLU Soldier grumbled something about Americans not surrendering, but made no other argument.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS, PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND," came the largely unnecessary order.

There was a very brief pause, and then a clatter as sniper rifles, revolvers, syringe guns, miniguns, rocket launchers, flame throwers, grenade launchers, shotguns, scatterguns, shovels, knives, bottles, and bonesaws all hit the ground at about the same time. RED Medic winced a little as he put his hands on his head, but it really didn't feel as bad as it could have. Then he carefully lay down on his front, waiting for further instruction.

Meanwhile the tank powered down and BLU Demo emerged, chunking his and the Engineers' weapons out before climbing down the ladder. RED Engineer came next supporting a very out of it BLU Engineer, who was looking at the ground and humming tunelessly under his breath.

The colonel, the man and a large group of heavily armed soldiers came down the slope toward them, weapons raised.

Everyone else was on the ground now. BLU Engineer hadn't wanted to lie on his face at first, but RED had gotten him to do it after some cursing and shoving.

"Now what?" said the clone.

The colonel did not look at all happy about any of this, which was quite a contrast to the expression of the man with him. This Head was gloating just as much-no, more-than his counterpart had over his prisoners.

"Well," he said. "You are sensible after all. Colonel, perhaps you should deal with leaders here. You are the senior officer here, and doubtless you have previous experience."

The Colonel nodded grimly and walked over to Pauling and her clone. He paused. "Hold on..." His eyes widened. "What's going on here? Why are there two of you?"

"Not of immediate concern," the Paulings chorused, and then both looked deeply uncomfortable. Clone-Pauling pulled herself to her feet with the aid of the sentry. She staggered a bit. One of the Medics started toward her and was shoved roughly back by a booted toe.

The Colonel pulled himself back together and raised a hand. "Sorry ma'am, it was a rhetorical question. We'll figure it out at the base. Now if you and the other Pauling could come with me..."

"She needs medical attention—" tried BLU Medic.

"She will recieve it," said the Colonel.

Clone-Pauling gave him a haughty glare, but did as directed, leaning heavily on her counterpart's arm. The clone of the Head looked at his watch, then at the teams with a satisfied smirk.

"It will be too late," he informed them. "Now let's finish tying up the loose ends. Have any last words, gentlemen?"

"Ve're prisoners of var," said BLU Medic, somehow managing to sound testy. "Zhere are _rules_."

"You should know better," said the man, sounding amused. "But this is _my_ army, doctor. They follow my orders. They're not taught to be nice and respectful like the regular army. If you'd resisted, we wouldn't have had to explain their deaths. No public embarrassment at all."

"More clones?" said BLU Scout, sounding a little hysterical. "It's like a one-note symphony round here. Clones, clones, clones! Fer fuck's sake, get an imagination."

A stream of muttered curses came from some of the team members, including a very dark look from RED Engineer.

RED Medic tensed, horrible memories flashing through his head. "Vhat, exactly, are you planning?" he asked cautiously.

"To put down a menace. Shoot 'em, boys."


	34. Chapter 34

**Standard disclaimer!**

There wasn't time to do anything, no time to get out of the way or attack or defend themselves, but they didn't let that stop them. Half of them were clambering to their feet before the man had finished his sentence. Both Soldiers sprang forward with crazed war cries, looking about ready to rip his throat out with their teeth. The RED Engineer had his glove off and was halfway up off the ground, Gunslinger spinning menacingly. Spies, Snipers, and Demomen were retrieving small pointed objects from various hiding places in their clothing. And the Heavies were scrambling frantically over to where the Medics lay.

But the armed men were out of range. There was no way either of the teams could defend themselves before they were killed.

The shooting started. BLU Medic covered his head as best he could, and then realized that he wasn't dead yet. There had been a few stray shots, but no screams from the men around him. He looked up.

In time to see the Administrator come around the corner, cigarette clamped between her teeth, still in heels, standing on the hood of Sniper's van, a minigun (Natasha, it looked like) in hand. Never mind that the gun ought to have weighed several times what she did, never mind that the Heavies would, under any other circumstances, objected to it in the most strenuous manner, never mind that they were still getting shot at, no one on either team had ever been so glad to see anyone in their lives.

RED Medic looked up, face white. He could just barely see one of the men who worked for Saxton Hale sitting at the wheel of the van, looking alarmed at the Administrator's precarious position.

Casually she took her cigarette from her mouth and tapped the ash off its end. "I think you should reconsider your position." And a positively sharklike smile crossed her face.

RED Demoman, who had clear memories of the time he'd gotten on the Administrator's bad side, and who wasn't entirely sure he'd gotten back on her other side (being fairly sure the lady didn't _have_ a good side) blinked. "Which o' us are yeh talkin' aboot?" he asked.

The Head turned tail and fled. Or tried to, because RED Pyro tripped him.

There was a gunshot from the hill, and a bullet flattened against the asphalt nearby. It was followed by several more, a ragged volley.

The Administrator arced a brow and returned fire. The mercenaries threw themselves flat on the ground again, not wanting to be caught in the hailstorm of bullets. RED Medic grimaced and crawled toward the nearest Heavy. "Is zhere any vay ve could get zhe injured to cover?" he shouted over the noise.

"No need, Docktor," said the RED Heavy. His eyes were on the hill; someone had, with impressive speed, rigged up a white flag, and waved it with great vigor.

The Administrator's brow arced even more impressively, and she stopped firing for a moment. The Colonel was waving his arms near the bearer of the white flag, looking mortified at what was happening. "STAND DOWN MEN, STAND DOWN!"

The soldiers still standing lowered their weapons.

There was a brief silence. Then the Head pushed himself up. "Don't stand down," he said. "They're dangerous criminals! We have them right where-"

BLU Pyro clonked him over the head with a fist.

"I take it you and your little army are ready to discuss terms then?" It sounded almost as though the Administrator was ready to laugh. Almost.

The Colonel nodded reluctantly.

And then Saxton Hale fell out of the sky.

Two Saxton Hales, in fact. Locked in clawing, roaring, chest-hair-pulling mortal combat. Directly between the Administrator and the Colonel.

The Administrator didn't even look at them. "There are more appropriate venues for this conversation," she said. "And I would like my assistant returned."

The Colonel didn't even try to argue.

* * *

Things were sorted out. The Administrator tended to do that, and the testimony from the Head and the clone of Miss Pauling soon set things straight. Well, not really straight. More officially embarrassed, not-going-to-press-the-issue, oh-my-are-people-going-to-get-fired-over-this-but-it-was-still-a-good-idea. The fight between Saxton Hale and his clone showed no sign of relenting, and eventually everyone got bored and left them to their own devices. (The resultant issue of _Saxton Hale's Thrilling Tales _remained the best seller for several years).

For their part, the mercenaries sat around and felt nervous and managed to bum various things off the few non-clones among the army lads. After a few hours, they were sent back to the base with a large guard, Sniper's van completely crammed and an army jeep besides. The Soldiers rode in the front seat of the jeep, utterly delighted.

After all the injuries were patched up, they wound up all sitting in the RED common room, far too wired to sleep but too exhausted to do anything but sit around and stare. Even the first Head, left in the middle of the coffee table, kept quiet.

Someone switched on the evening news.

Unsurprisingly, the subject was the events of that day.

The whole thing was, inevitably, written off as a "commie plot", which made enough sense when wrapped in a slew of commentary from various 'experts', talking about how advantageous it would be for the USSR to alienate the United States from her largest weapon and hat manufacturer, as it would have given the communist nation a distinct edge in the race to discover a charismatic cloche. Miss Pauling and the mercenaries were praised for their 'quick action' and then never mentioned again.

The Heavies traded a long-suffering look and leaned back on the couch, BLU Heavy putting a possessive arm around his Medic. They watched in silence for a while, listening to the arguments over what was to be done with the clones and what concessions the government had to make to TF Industries and Mann Co, given the unfortunate destruction of the former company's headquarters. For its part, Mann Co announced a special new sale price for weapons for governmental use-the mercenaries, having plenty of experience with discount weapons, groaned as one.

Some hours later, there was a knock. BLU Pyro got up to answer it and returned holding a large box, which she handed to BLU Medic. There was a note on it.

_I will not have the teams unbalanced. Miss Pauling informed me RED Medic had one of these; it is only appropriate that you have one as well. I think it would be most useful if it were thrown off a cliff, but I hope you will make it worth my efforts. _

He opened it.

A second Head stared up at him, profoundly unhappy. BLU Medic grinned. "So _zhere_," he said to his counterpart, putting the BLU Head next to the RED Head on the coffee table. "I have one too."

**The End**

**Stay tuned-there are epilogues!**


	35. Epilogue 1

The Administrator glared at the screens in front of her, at the one that showed RED's common room and the exhausted mercenaries. Miss Pauling shifted uncomfortably.

"This is a complete mess, Pauling."

"The cleaning crew did what they could," offered Miss Pauling.

"I don't mean my office. The war. We've hired these men to fight, not-what is that Pyro doing?"

Miss Pauling peered at the screen. "I think she's making s'mores, Administrator."

"And giving them to the _BLU_ Spy?"

Miss Pauling shrugged a little. "It does seem that the recent experience has made both teams fast..." She trailed off. The look the Administrator was giving her was not a good one. "Er, faster, Administrator."

"I hate friendship."

"Yes, Administrator. But..."

"But what, Pauling? If you have a way to get those men back to _killing_ each other, like we hired them to, spit it out! Before those two morons decide to have a _real_ war."

"Give them a raise, and a new set of hats, and they'll go back to it quite happily," said Miss Pauling. "But if you take direct action against them, they're still friendly enough to each other that they'll turn on us. It's not enough to keep them scared of us, Administrator. We need to keep them convinced that they want to be working for us."

The Administrator looked sidelong at Miss Pauling. Good, the girl had learned _something_. "And how much will this cost?"

"Less than hiring new mercenaries, which is our other option. They just tried to save TF industries. Treat them like heroes, and they'll try to impress you again. Otherwise, they'll be resentful."

"You seem impressed with their capabilities."

"I saw the thing the Engineers built, Administrator, and frankly, I would not like to have it pointed at me."

"Hmph. I suppose it's worth a try."


	36. Epilogue 2

**Standard disclaimer!**

****_Some time later..._

The room was dark, and anxiety palpable.

"They still want us to do something about it," said a voice, young and nervous.

"Research and Development says they've got nothing. They're still trying to reverse-engineer that damn sentry tank. Let's face it, gentlemen; we're not doing anything about that lot for a good long while. Better concentrate on the Commies._ Them_, we can beat."

"But they threatened—"

A pause, and a shuffling of seats. "Boy," said the second voice, "You've got your whole career in front of you. If you wanna keep it that way, you'll learn that there's times just to cut and run and this here's one. Project Omega is disbanded. It's time we started acting like it."

"But the President—"

"President and those damnfool senators be damned, we are not charging back in. Good enough for us that they wrote it off to the Ruskies. They won't do it a second—You, close that damn door!"

The line of light from the door narrowed, as the person responsible stepped in.

"My," he said after a moment, an old man's voice, "it is dark in here." There was a click, and the lights came on, to the curses of the men seated around the table.

"Now I don't know who the hell you are," said the second voice, now revealed as a rather fat Senator. "But that light was out for a _reason_, son."

The newcomer smirked a little at that. He was, indeed, old, birdlike, though more a vulture than any friendly bird, and there was an odd, glowing thing on his shoulders. He steepled his fingers, long and knobby, and looked at the room with great attention.

"Well," he said, ignoring the Senator. "You've gotten yourselves into quite a mess, gentlemen. Allow me to offer my assistance, and that of my company. I do believe we have similar…objectives."

* * *

**And that is the end. **

**We started writing this sometime in June because it was summer vacation and we were bored. We were rather taken aback at the bulky result (60,000 plus words for a fanfic? The idea was absurd!) but we had spectacular fun writing this and even more spectacular fun posting it and seeing that you guys enjoyed it. (Let us just say that the authors have a touch of an ego problem, shall we?) **

**In any case, thank you, everyone. We have a few more projects in the works concerning the further adventures of RED and BLU Medics and company, but they're uh, in progress. They'll turn up here some time, though! **

**Farewell for now!**

**The Authors. **


End file.
